The Women in Red
by souloflead
Summary: After striking up an unusual friendship with Draco Malfoy, Hermione is thrust into a world of conspiracy and deadly obsession.
1. Chapter 1

I was bone tired.

My twelve-hour shift at St. Mungo's had just ended. I was really looking forward to getting home and curling up in bed. Preferably with a book to read on the bedside table. I felt as if I'd been working forever. My time at St. Mungo's was tiresome but eventful; I couldn't imagine my life without the constant motion that came with being a Healer.

I took off my lab coat and yawned before letting my eyes droop shut the tiniest bit. My feet dragged along the linoleum floor as I searched for my bag. I was dying for a cup of hot chocolate, and I figured I would stop by the cafeteria before going back to the flat.

I finally found my wallet, holding it up triumphantly as if it was trophy in honor of my long day at work.

"Healer Granger!"

I cursed under my breath as I turned around slowly. It was my obnoxious boss, Kieran. He never seemed to understand that Healers had lives outside of the hospital. He didn't have much of a life; from what I understood, when he left the hospital he went home and read more medical articles to prepare for the next day at work. He volunteered for longer shifts. Unfortunately, I was not nearly as dedicated to my job.

"We need you for a patient."

"My shift ended ten minutes ago." I made a valiant effort to keep the irritation out of my voice. I really did.

"You're the expert on Dark spells in the hospital. The patient has some serious nerve damage. You're the only one who has a chance at reversing the effects."

I sighed. If only I'd left a couple minutes earlier. "Are you sure you can't get anyone else? If this is going to require surgery…"

"Malfoy."

My eyebrows drew together. _Malfoy. _I had heard that name in passing from time to time (on the news, especially) because of Draco's highly successful consulting firm. But I hadn't spoken to, or seen, a Malfoy in years. Why was Draco taken to St. Mungo's? Surely he had the money to afford a much higher-end, posh hospital facility if he fell ill. Even if he hadn't had such a successful business, he still had that massive Malfoy fortune passed down through generations of slimy, selfish gits. "The patient?"

"It's Lucius Malfoy."

I automatically flinched. Surely that was a conflict of interest, considering Lucius had often (however indirectly) tried to kill me. More than once. Not to mention I had looked him in the eyes as he had tried to kill my best friends and stood by as his sister tortured me. "I can't treat Lucius Malfoy."

Kieran's face abruptly hardened with contempt. "You can and you _will_, Healer Granger. Lucius Malfoy has done his time, and I will not have prejudice in my hospital."

That had been one of the things I had admired most about Kieran: his insistence on former Death Eater rights. While most of the employees at the hospital had turned their noses up at the sight of the Dark Mark, Kieran had gotten every one of them treated.

I let out a breath and nodded. I knew I was good at my job; there was very little I couldn't handle. "Of course."

Kieran abruptly turned around and started towards the main hallway, clearly expecting me to follow him. I immediately matched his brisk pace. "He was brought in fifteen minutes ago," he started. "He was convulsing sharply, eyes glazed over, couldn't speak. An emergency contact wasn't listed in his file, so we couldn't call to check if it was an allergic reaction."

"How do you know it's Dark magic?"

He shook his head grimly. "Our usual spell therapies for seizures and allergies aren't working. His regular motor functions are degenerating. Process of elimination."

Suddenly, Lucius Malfoy was rolled right in front of me on a stretcher. His pale face looked strange under the lights of the hospital; his bones jutted out sharply from his skin. His moribund appearance stunned me for a moment; I couldn't feel the wand in my hand.

"Ms. Granger," Healer Goffrey prompted, shaking me out of the strange spell.

"Who brought him here?" I asked, turning my face to the side so I wouldn't have to look at him.

"We don't know," another Healer said nervously. "He was dropped off in the waiting room and an orderly found him on the floor."

"No one saw the person who dropped him off? No one thought to stop him and ask what happened to him?" My frustration leaked into my spell work, which had clearly gotten shoddy because of exhaustion.

"Shit," I said. "There's only one option we have left. You all are going to have to pull out your wands."

They immediately obeyed. I was the uncontested expert on cursebreaking in the hospital, and they usually followed my command when it came to cases like this.

I closed my eyes slowly. To carry out the spell, I had to be completely calm. Any sort of worry or anxiety would immediately amplify when I came to Lucius' health. It was incredibly dangerous, and if it didn't work... well. There was no hope. "Repeat after me," I said softly. "_Reducere tenebris_."

Their wands glowed as they followed my lead, and our magic intertwined over Lucius's chest. I listened to the sound of his heartbeat, still keeping a tight grip on my control. "Just a few more seconds," I told my fellow Healers. "Just a few more seconds, and it'll…"

The chain of magical energy abruptly died off. My wand dropped out of my hand.

His heartbeat had stopped.

"It's… That should have worked," I whispered. I almost put my hands on his chest and pumped my arms, the way I'd seen muggle doctors on those old television shows do to save a dying patient. This wasn't happening. I was an excellent Healer; I beat impossible odds every day. Lucius Malfoy _couldn't _have been the exception. Not after he had survived so long under the darkest wizard of all time.

My stomach rose to my throat and blocked the pathway to air.

"I'm sorry, Granger." Kieran said.

"Time of death," Healer Lutz pronounced, "4:21 A.M."

"I'll have to alert his son and wife immediately," I said, dazed. It was surreal. I'd had Lucius Malfoy on a stretcher in front of me, and I'd allowed him to die.

"Granger, we aren't expecting you to break the news to the family," Kieran said gently.

I shook my head. "No. I'll do it."

Logically, I shouldn't have felt anything for him. Logically, I should have felt indifferent to his death.

But Lucius was someone's father and someone's husband. I knew this about all of the patients I had lost before, but it had never hit me so hard before: it was end to a lifetime, a lifetime of struggle to survive and thrive. And after all those years, it had been ended by a few whispered words.


	2. Chapter 2

I met Alex six months ago.

Harry had shown up on my doorstep with an incredibly beautiful Asian woman on his arm. Harry had been sent on an Auror mission after there was evidence of Death Eater activity in New York City. Alex was working in a law firm at the time and had been hired to defend Douglas Oliver, a man charged with the murder of two muggle children and their mother. Harry had been called in to testify.

From the moment I saw Alex and Harry interact, I had been green with envy. Only four years ago, I had thought I had that sort of easy, perfect relationship they had. Ronald Weasley had been my true love (or, so I thought) and we were going to get married. We were going to have children, and Harry was going to be their uncle. We were going to watch them play together on the fields, running around and shrieking as we laughed at their antics. But, as all girlhood dreams, it proved to be only a fantasy.

Alex had held out her hand and said, firmly, "Hermione Granger, I presume."

I had raised my eyebrows and took her hand. "Well, I suppose it's good that I don't have to make any introductions."

"You're somewhat of an icon back in the American wizarding world," Alex shrugged. "When I was first starting at UCWW, there was a Granger Girls for Independence club."

I smiled, even though it sounded ridiculous. "Well, it's flattering, at the very least."

"I, however, was determined to keep my admiration for your work a secret." She nudged Harry with her elbow. "Harry here couldn't laugh hard enough about how I had looked up to one of his best friends for three years."

Harry grinned. "You should have heard her, Mione. Honestly. On our first date, she asked me if you and I ever discuss the recent developments in gene therapy of wizarding conditions."

I laughed. I could only imagine the date; Harry awkwardly fumbling through his words, and Alex smiling into her glass of wine. "I suppose you realized rather quickly that Harry has little interest in biology."

"Clearly," Alex said. "I tried to get him at least a little interested in science, but it was a lost cause." She smiled at him warmly. "I should have expected nothing less from the Auror Extraordinaire."

Harry laced his fingers through hers and turned towards me. "I've actually asked Alex to marry me, and I wanted to make sure my best friend and my fiancée knew each other well before the wedding."

"Not to mention I'd been bothering him about meeting his friends," Alex inserted.

My smile dropped a little, thinking about what used to be the Golden Trio. Alex had been shocked to learn that neither Harry nor I ever spoke to many of the Weasleys anymore, with the exception of Ginny, who had long since turned her back on her family.

Alex and I had spent the rest of the night discussing the benefits of specializing in genetics rather than physiology. Alex had been accepted into Oxford to get her Masters degree in Biology, and she had a flat near the campus.

I rang the doorbell to Alex's flat, hoping that she was still awake. I considered just apparating home and waiting for tomorrow to come: tomorrow, when I'd have to tell Draco that his father had been struck by a curse that I had been unable to break. That I'd been unable to save him.

Just when I was about to leave, Alex answered her door, dressed in a pair of yoga pants and an over-sized t-shirt that read: _Women: can't live with them, can't successfully refute their hypotheses. _

"Mione?" she asked. "What are you doing here? It's four thirty in the morning!"

"I just let Lucius Malfoy die," I said, and then considered how ridiculous it sounded when I blurted it aloud.

Alex pulled me in, and I welcomed the rush of warm air. Alex was perfectly unruffled, despite the ungodly hour. It was to be expected; she always went to sleep early and woke up around four. She claimed her best research papers were always done at the earliest hours. "What do you mean?"

"Someone dropped him off at the hospital… he was convulsing. I tried every spell I knew to break the Dark curse, even the ones that were incredibly dangerous. None of them worked."

"Hermione," Alex said patiently. "You can't save everyone." She flopped down on her couch, setting her laptop on the coffee table in front of her. "You did everything you could."

"Clearly not enough," I snapped angrily. "You should have seen him. All of those spells should have worked. They've never failed before. Obviously I've done something wrong… maybe I let the way he treated me before affect my job."

Alex stood up from her spot on the couch and walked into her kitchen. My eyes followed her, confused.

Alex pulled a box of tea leaves out of her cabinet. "I think you need some tea."

"I am not a child. I do not need tea."

"Don't even _think _about insulting my favorite beverage, Granger. Honestly, I come to England and I expect you to all be sipping tea at three in the afternoon. But instead, I get my fiancée and my best friend complaining about how much tea I drink."

I couldn't help but smile. It was true; I had never been a big fan of tea. I preferred coffee, especially on those incredibly long shifts. I wondered if all Americans expected us Brits to be having tea and crumpets in the afternoon.

"Did I tell you I have to be the one to tell his son?"

Alex's eyebrows drew together. "You mean Draco?"

"No," she replied sourly. "I mean the spawn of the devil." I'd hated Draco Malfoy since school and, honestly, this was going to be the most painful experience I'd ever had. There was no question that Draco would blame me, and maybe I would end up with an accusation of malpractice against me.

Alex smirked. "I'm sure he's grown up a little since school. You have, you know."

I crossed my arms. "In what way is that?"

"Well, first of all, you aren't an insufferable know-it-all. And you don't correct people's grammar in the middle of their sentence." She carefully cast a cooling charm when the tea was at boiling point.

I shrugged. I wasn't going to try to deny it. "Harry told you countless stories about me and my grammar obsession, I presume?"

Alex smiled. "Harry tells me everything. Besides, from what I can tell, it seems he had a little crush on you back in school."

"And how exactly do you figure that?" Draco Malfoy had tormented me regularly for six years. I couldn't imagine him ever feeling any affection for me.

Alex shrugged. "This is what boys do when they've got a crush."

I rolled my eyes. "Can we please change the subject?"

"Sure, of course. I can always try to shove you out of your state of denial later." She smirked again and turned to walk into the kitchen. "More tea?"

* * *

I had always hated Malfoy Manor.

It was large, cold, and unfeeling. It wasn't like a castle, exactly; it was more like a giant prison. And, besides, it wasn't as if the Manor held fond memories. This was the place I'd been tortured by Draco's aunt. I never wanted to go back; in fact, on that day, I made a vow that I would never return.

I briefly wondered about my safety as I stepped onto his front porch. Would he hex me on the spot? Would he call the aurors and get me arrested for trespassing?

Well. There was really only one way to find out. I knocked on his door, lightly at first; when no one answered, I knocked louder. I desperately hoped he was at home. I hadn't thought to send an owl alerting him of my arrival beforehand.

Finally, interrupting one of my insistent knocks, he opened the door. "I told you, Blaise, I don't…" He trailed off as he caught sight of my face. "Granger?"

"Yes, it's me. Hermione Granger. From Hogwarts," I said, and then added a "hello," compulsively.

"What are you doing here?"

I coughed nervously. "I'm afraid something's happened. I assume you heard that your father was admitted to Saint Mungo's last night?"

His blank stare was answer enough. Before I could elaborate, he said, "I assure you I am woefully out-of-date with my father's medical history. So, no, I had no idea."

"Well," I said awkwardly. "I'm afraid that… well, he's not… well, what I _mean _to say is that…"

"Please, move at the glacial pace of a snail, Granger. It's not as if I have anything more important to attend to."

"He's dead." I blurted out.

He stared at me for a moment, and then sighed. "I think you should come in."

The inside of the house was exactly as I had remembered it: unfeeling, impersonal, and stuck in the Dark Ages. All the furniture was so ancient that I refused to sit on any of it, afraid that I would diminish its value.

"Tea?" Draco asked from the kitchen.

"No thank you," I said back neutrally. There was no way I was accepting beverage from a Malfoy, especially when I had just informed him that his father was dead.

He came out of the kitchen with a single cup of tea, and gestured for me to sit down.

"This is a lovely parlor," I told him lamely.

He smirked. "I know you hate it, Granger. It's not as if you're good at keeping your emotions off of your face."

I shrugged. His playful exterior dropped suddenly. "How did it happen?"

I cleared my throat, prepared for this conversation. "Someone dropped him off at the hospital and disappeared. I suspected he had been cursed with Dark Magic. I tried every reversal spell I knew…"

"But none of them worked," Draco finished for me. When I gave him a quizzical glance, he elaborated, "My father had a lot of enemies. Anyone who would curse him with Dark Magic would make damn sure that none of the usual reversal spells would work."

"I tried the best I could." I had no idea why I felt like I needed him to know that. Perhaps because this was an entirely different Draco Malfoy than I had ever seen, and I liked it.

"I know you did, Granger. I've heard of your work as a Healer, and I know of your devotion to your patients."

"May I ask you something?" I asked, twisting my hands nervously in my lap. When he nodded, I continued. "How on earth can you be so calm about this?"

"I haven't spoken to my father since I left Hogwarts. I went to magical business school, and I never looked back. I had already accepted that he would no longer be in my life. This only makes it official." He traced his finger along the rim of the cup of tea. "I'm sorry that you lost a patient, Granger."

"And I'm sorry that I couldn't save your father," I answered diplomatically.

"I'll send you the invitation to the funeral," he replied wryly, pulling a small box out of his pocket. "Would you like a cigarette?"

"Of course not. Do you know how bad those are for the lungs?" I scolded him sharply.

"Interesting," he said. "I've never been on the receiving end of your insistent nagging."

"I do not nag, I merely make suggestions," I replied stubbornly, crossing my arms in front of my chest. "Although I assume you already know the health risk of smoking those ghastly things."

"It's a habit I picked up. Most English businessmen tend to smoke, and when you're making deals, you stick to the behaviors they are familiar with. It's the first thing you learn in business school."

"Well. I'm glad I decided to learn to heal instead."

"And that's all for the best. You'd be a terrible business consultant."

"Fair enough." I stood up, grabbing my coat and holding my hand out expectantly. "I expect the invitation to the funeral to come to me through owl."

He shook it with another one of his signature smirks. "Will do, Ms. Granger."


	3. Chapter 3

I got the invitation two days later, delivered by a snow white owl. I smiled sadly when I saw the Malfoy crest in ink printed on the outside. It simply read a date, address, and time.

"What's that?" asked Alex, peeking over my shoulder. I was surprised she had wrenched herself away from her ridiculous television show about the time-traveling doctor, considering she'd had her eyes glued to it for the past hour.

"It's an invitation to Lucius's funeral."

She hummed noncommittally. "Interesting. I suppose you two buried the hatchet, then?" She had a soft smile on her face, as if she found this idea hilarious.

"I suppose. I mean, we did have a somewhat civil conversation." And even as I told her, I was shocked to realize that it was true. We had had a real conversation, without the words _mudblood _ or _git _or _bastard_. A miracle, to be sure. "I just had a brilliant idea. Come to the funeral with me."

Alex looked exceedingly uncomfortable. "Yes, about that…"

"You could bring Harry! Surely it's time that they put their school rivalry behind them."

"Um, there's something I need to tell you." But before she could finish, her fireplace glowed green, signaling a firecall. The ashes glowed with the name _Draco Malfoy _in elegant calligraphy.

I slowly turned around to look at Alex, who had a certain deer-in-the-headlights expression that would have been amusing if I hadn't been so angry. "Alex."

"Yes?" she answered innocently. "Oh, look at that. I'm all out of popcorn. I'll just go to the kitchen…"

"_Why_," I said slowly, "is Draco Malfoy firecalling you?"

She cleared her throat. "See, it's a funny story."

"I'm having a hard time imagining any circumstance where I'd consider this funny."

"Draco and I have known each other for the last few months. In fact, other than you, I consider him one of my closest friends," she admitted, shrugging and eying the telly as if it would save her.

"Are you _serious_?" I said. "Please tell me you're kidding. Does Harry know about this?"

"Oh, yeah. Harry and Draco get along better than Draco and I do."

"How could you have kept this from me? I talk about how I haven't seen Draco in years and how I'm afraid he'll hex me the second he sees me, and you've known him for months?"

"Well, I knew you'd react like this," she replied defensively. "You hate him."

"With good reason!" I retorted. I stood up from Alex's couch, frustrated. "You know what? Fine. I guess I'll see you at the funeral."

"So you're angry with me because I refused to hate Draco just because you did?"

"You're my best friend," I replied loudly as I made my way to the exit. "I should be able to expect that common courtesy!" I slammed the door on the way out.

* * *

I didn't speak to Alex again until the funeral, and even then I refused to sit next to her and Harry. Instead, I planted myself next to Ginny and Blaise, who welcomed me with open arms.

The funeral processions were surprisingly short, and I was shocked to find that Draco refused to give a eulogy about his father. He only stood up after the preacher dismissed us, making his way to the first pew instead of the podium. "I know most of you are my friends," he began. "I also know that most of you only came here to support me. And I can assure you that I don't need support. I didn't know my father any better than any of you did. So, I can only thank you for coming to these funeral proceedings. All of you."

He bowed his head as he walked out of the church. I saw Alex and Harry walk up to greet us, and I was shell-shocked to witness Ginny crying. She explained that it wasn't Lucius she was crying for, but Draco, who must have been suffering. I could only stare at the spot that Draco had exited, wondering if I should have offered him my condolences.

Ginny reached out to hug Alex. "I know you and Draco are close. You must be feeling his pain."

"It's going to be hard on him," Harry said. "Even if he won't admit it."

"How can you watch this?" Alex asked. "Lucius had tried to kill you, after all."

"Lucius tried to kill all of us at one point or another," Ginny pointed out, reaching for Blaise's hand. "And, even though he didn't ask for it, I'm here for Draco."

Alex sighed. "Well, I can't say I'm sorry he's gone, but what happened to him really was tragic."

"It makes you think that it could have been any of us," Ginny sighed. "Well, Blaise and I better be off. I'll see you tomorrow, darling." She kissed her on the cheek lightly, her red lipstick leaving a slight mark on Alex's cheek.

We made our goodbyes. I decided to forgive Alex, because I knew that my ridiculous tantrum was rather unjustified. I apologized to her for making such a huge production out of it, and in a typical Alex fashion, she waved it off and suggested we make plans for the weekend. I apparated home with a smile on my face.

Imagine my surprise when I found Draco waiting for me on my front porch. "Hello, Granger," he said. "I have a proposition for you."

"What the _hell _are you doing here?" I said, pulling out my wand. "How dare you!"

He held up his hands as a gesture of surrender. "Just hear me out," he pleaded. "Is that too much to ask?"

"You have a minute before I kick you out. And feel free to interpret that threat literally."

"My mother was attacked the night my father died," he rushed to explain. "She was hit by a Dark curse, and her health is degenerating quickly. She's incoherent, losing memory… it can't be a coincidence that she was struck with a curse the same night as my father. She says she doesn't remember her attacker, and I've even tried truth serum, but the memory loss is either a product of the curse or her attacker obliviated her."

I lowered my wand. "And what do you want me to do about it?"

"I need you to fix her."

"Shouldn't you be calling the aurors? Or better yet, a curse-breaker?"

He snorted. "If I called the aurors, her case would get thrown to the bottom of some idiot bureaucrat's desk file, and I'd have to wait decades. And you're just as qualified as any curse-breaker, not to mention you're a trained healer and are well-acquainted with Muggle medicines and chemicals."

"How did you know that?" I asked shakily. I'd been studying muggle genetic and medical theory in private.

"You took a six-month long sabbatical last year to take a class at the University of Sydney in modern biological theory," he said smugly. "It isn't that hard to figure out that you're interested in it."

Clearly he'd done his research in the last few days. I wasn't sure if that made me more or less likely to trust him. "You can't expect me to work entirely on trying to cure your mother. I have a job."

"We'll discuss pay later. I want to know if you're even considering taking the job."

I tried to picture taking the job. If Draco was right about this (and I knew he probably was, considering he was practically raised around Dark magic) then I wouldn't be able to devise a cure without the magical signature of the person who cast it. And that would mean I would have to figure out who had attacked Narcissa and Lucius three nights ago. Not to mention I would have to figure out exactly how to counteract the curse before it was too late for her. "Of course I'm considering it. I won't let your mother die." _Like I let your father die_ went unsaid, but he and I were probably both thinking it.

"Just go to see her," he requested. "If you still insist that I hire someone else after that, then I will leave you alone."

I wanted to comment that, since my best friends were so close with him, it still probably wouldn't be the last time I saw him. But, then again, they did a great job keeping him from me before. "Fine. I'll go to see her."

He grabbed my arm and I closed my eyes as we appeared in Malfoy Manor. "My mother's room is on the first floor," he told me, leading me around the furniture. "She hasn't left it since the attack."

When we arrived at her room and Draco opened the door, I suddenly remembered the last time I saw Narcissa Malfoy. She had strolled out of the castle, hand in hand with her son, after the Battle of Hogwarts. She looked regal and poised, her appearance unruffled and untouched by the chaos around her.

I almost didn't recognize the woman in front of me.


	4. Chapter 4

The first thing I noticed about the creature crouching on the wooden floor was her hair.

Her once beautiful blonde hair hung in clumps around her face. Her blue veins were visible under her delicate, translucent skin. She had her arms wrapped around her knees, subtly rocking back and forth. Shoved into the corner of the room, the soft candlelight just barely illuminated her form.

"Mother," Draco said quietly, and Narcissa's head snapped up at the sound of it. Her eyes were bruised and rimmed with red, making her appear as if she hadn't slept in weeks. She crawled forward, her pupils dilating and darting back and forth.

When she didn't reply, I asked, "Mrs. Malfoy?"

She turned towards me, her eyes narrowing. "Get out."

"Mother," Draco said patiently, refusing to move from the spot he was standing, "she just wants to speak to you. Is that alright?"

"Get out, you stupid boy," she hissed. "The Dark Lord will be here any minute. And he'll be here to kill you for your insolence."

"Mother," he said, "The Dark Lord isn't here. What you saw wasn't real."

"None of it is real!" she spat, scrambling to her feet. "All of it is a dream. All of it is just visions!" Her expression suddenly went blank as her eyes took on a dreamy quality. "I just have to watch you die again and again. So _get out_."

"Draco," I whispered, "She's having delusions?"

"She can't distinguish reality and fantasy. She believes that all of her delusions are reality." He looked towards his mother, his face defeated. I couldn't imagine having to go through this-watching someone I loved lose her grip on reality.

"You were such a good son," she was murmuring, pacing back and forth. "You were only a few years old yesterday, and now you're full grown. But it doesn't matter, because you always die the same way."

"Mother!" Draco exclaimed sharply. "I can promise you this is real."

Her lips stretched into something that was a mockery of a smile. "Oh, Dragon. You don't understand." As she stepped into the light, I noticed a sheen of sweat on her body. Telltale sign of a muggle affliction: specifically, a bacteria.

"I have a few ideas what we need to look for," I told him.

He nodded. "Would you like anything?" he asked her with a gentle quality I hadn't heard from him before.

She didn't appear to hear him, and we exited her room, closing the door softly behind us. I immediately asked him where the library was, and he led the way as I admired his extravagant décor. His library was in a whole different world; it had a modern feel, and every shelf was filled with books.

I didn't even bother commenting on the appearance of the room; instead, I went straight for my wand and summoned _Magical Signatures_.

"Here is what I observed about her condition," I told him, flipping open the book. "Dark curses usually target either the stability of the mind or physical health. The most common Dark curses make the victim lose their grip on reality, and give them what most experts call 'living nightmares'. The rest operate like a slow, untraceable poison. The victim's body begins to shut down, usually killing them within a few weeks."

"But my mother is exhibiting both," he interrupted, peering over my shoulder.

"Exactly. Your mother is experiencing both physical and mental effects from the curse. This is an extremely rare circumstance."

"So you think that this is an experienced Dark magic caster," he guessed.

"Not necessarily," I replied, summoning another book on Dark magic. "Consider what happened that night. The assault occurred at your home. The attacker went after both of your parents with Dark curses, yet your father dies at a hospital within a matter of minutes and your mother survives _days_ later."

"So you think it might have been a mistake."

"It easily could have been a mistake. A Dark curse like this requires precision and perfection. I suspect that the attacker went for Lucius first, and panicked when it came time to attack Narcissa. The second time was a slip-up. Both of them were supposed to die." I paused. "I just can't explain how he got to the hospital."

"It was Blaise," he said, conjuring a cup of coffee. "He dropped Lucius off at the hospital. Tried to firecall me, but I was in an important business deal. When I got home, I discovered my mother on the floor, groaning that the Dark Lord was going to _crucio _her."

"So the vendetta is with Lucius," I continued. "Narcissa was either a last-minute thought or a lower priority."

"So I'm looking for enemies of Lucius," he concluded. "His life was work. We start with his business enemies."

"Are you sure you don't want to start with his war enemies?" I asked. After all, Lucius did have a lot of them.

"No. It's been years since the war. This kind of attack just doesn't happen this far in the future."

"You're right," I said, sighing. Then, realizing what he'd said, I dropped the book. "Wait. You said 'we'."

"Of course," he replied, raising an eyebrow. "I was assuming you'd join me in this investigation."

I laughed. "You're joking." When I discovered he wasn't laughing along, the smile dropped from my face. "I have a _job_, Draco. I work eighty hours a week."

"So take a sabbatical."

I looked at him incredulously. "You can't be serious. I can't just ask for a sabbatical. I already took one last year."

"So take another. I already asked the hospital for permission."

"You're ridiculous," I said, shaking my head. "This is also my livelihood. I can't go around playing detective with you when I have rent to pay."

"Tell me the truth, Granger," he interrupted, walking closer to me so that he was only a few feet from me. "How much longer does my mother have if I don't reverse the curse?"

I couldn't answer that. I knew I couldn't. There were too many medical variables. Dark Curses were unpredictable and temperamental. I couldn't come up with a definite answer.

And yet… I'd seen this before. I knew how this curse was going to affect her, eventually, because I'd seen how fast it had acted on her in the last three days. "Two weeks," I murmured before I could stop myself. "Three, if she's strong."

His face remained blank, but I saw him swallow his fear. "Alright. How much are you paid at the hospital?"

I cocked my head to the side as I thought of the bills I'd received last year. "About thirty thousand galleons, when you discount taxes."

"Perfect," he replied calmly. "I'll pay you sixty thousand for every week you work to help my mother."

"What if I can't find the cure?" I asked, and the silence that followed my question seemed almost suffocating. He took a breath and held it, then let it out in a whoosh.

"If you can't find the cure," he said, "You'll keep the money I gave you. If you find the cure, I'll pay you as much as you want."

"I couldn't…" I protested, overwhelmed by this kind of offer.

"One million galleons," he said, and my jaw almost popped open. "If you can find the cure, I will deposit one million galleons into your Gringotts account."

I fell into the chair behind me, suddenly unable to feel my legs. This wasn't happening. This kind of offer was largely ridiculous. I'd never had that much money in my entire life. With one million galleons, I could live without working for years.

He sat next to me. "Oh, come on, Granger," he whispered. I could feel his breath on my face. "I need her in my life. She's my mother."

Before I knew what I was doing, I was nodding. I was agreeing. My life was going to be consumed with trying to help Draco and his mother for the next two weeks. And hopefully, she was going to come out of it alive.

* * *

The first business function he took me to was the night after the offer. I had borrowed a floor-length coral gown from Ginny. My hair was piled up on the top of my head in an elegant hairstyle, and my diamond bracelet glittered under the light of the chandelier. I was latched onto his arm, smiling at the men dressed in business suits milling about the room.

"We're going to speak to Hanover," he whispered in my ear. "One of my father's direct rivals in the investing industry."

"The man in the blue and red tie?" I whispered back.

"Yes. You're going to have to charm him a little if you want any information. Although," he commented, twirling me around innocently, "you do look stunning in that dress. It shouldn't be all that difficult."

"Oh, shut it," I said ineloquently. "Just because I'm here as your pretend date doesn't mean you can treat me like a real one."

Before we could approach our first subject, a woman with a dazzling smile intercepted us, planting herself in front of Draco. "Draco Malfoy!" she exclaimed, her red lips stretching across her teeth. "How nice to see you."

"Katie," Draco said cautiously, peering around her to see if Mr. Hanover had left. "It's good to see you as well."

Her eyes flickered over to me. "Wow. Is that Hermione Granger? You look beautiful!"

It suddenly occurred to me who she was: Katie Bell, an old Gryffindor Chaser. She looked as if she hadn't aged a day in a decade. "It's been so long since we've seen each other."

"Yes. It makes me remember the old Quidditch days. Not to mention kicking Slytherin's arses," she commented, bumping Draco lightly with her shoulder. He smiled back at her warmly.

"It's so good to see you, Katie," I said, reaching out and giving her a hug. "I'm glad you're here."

"Well," she replied airily, "I could hardly pass up the chance to get a few more deals. Besides, Pansy insisted we come."

And on cue, Pansy Parkinson glided up to us, wearing a long, beaded red dress. "Draco," she greeted, and her eyes visibly widened as she registered my presence. "And Hermione Granger. Even you have succumbed to his arrogant brand of charm?"

I laughed. "I may be here as his date, but I have no intention on falling for any of his charm."

"Hello, love," Katie said, lightly kissing Pansy's hand. "I feel like I haven't seen you in ages."

"Don't be ridiculous," she scolded, unable to hold back the indulgent smile. "It's only been a day."

"A day is much too long for you to be gone," Katie protested. I blushed at the display; most of the couples I knew weren't that obviously intimate.

"A Slytherin and a Gryffindor," I commented. "I never thought I'd live to see the day."

"Well, I prefer to forget the person I was back in school," Pansy sighed. "I'm afraid I was a rather huge bitch."

Katie merely shrugged. Pansy had obviously changed as much as Draco had over the years, and I couldn't help but admire that. "Do you both work at a consulting firm?"

Pansy smiled. "I work at Draco's, and Katie works at Briggs and Associates."

"Our rivals," Draco added. "Speaking of which, I have to go steal a client from that lovely firm."

"Of course," Katie said graciously. "I think Pansy and I are going to head home, yes?"

Draco waved goodbye and pulled me in Mr. Hanover's direction, who was grabbing a glass of champagne off of a waitress's tray. He startled when he saw us, especially Draco.

"Mr. Hanover," Draco greeted him, pulling me close to his side. "This is my date for the evening, Hermione Granger."

"Pleased to meet you," he said formally.

"I just wished to speak to you about my father," he requested. "He said you two had made some sort of deal before he…" He trailed off, clearly expecting Mr. Hanover to finish for him.

He took the bait. "Yes, of course. I'm so sorry to hear about your father, Draco. He will be well missed." He cleared his throat. "But I'm afraid we never had any kind of deal…"

I pinched his elbow lightly and, getting my hint, Draco said, "I'm sorry for the confusion. Please let me know if you're interested in hiring Malfoy Consulting."

"I _am_ sorry about your father," Mr. Hanover said loudly as we left his presence.

"It's not him," I said. "No increase in heartbeat, no sweat on the upper brow. He's not lying."

"And how would you know that?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Sense heightening charm, of course." I paused. "Interesting, though. Mr. Hanover is gay."

"Gay? He's married," Draco protested, winding his way through the multitudes of guests.

"He couldn't stop staring at your arse as we left," I said, shrugging, and he burst into laughter.

"You never cease to amaze me, Hermione Granger," he commented as he apparated me home. "I look forward to seeing you tomorrow."

"Don't get too excited," I told him. "We have a lot of work to do tomorrow. There's no time for humor."

The mirth disappeared from his face as he nodded solemnly. "Tomorrow, the real work begins." He pulled out his wand. "Goodnight, Granger."

As he disappeared on the spot, I walked into my flat, changing out of my dress and turning off the lights. But I couldn't sleep for hours.


	5. Chapter 5

**So recently I remembered that I'm supposed to put a disclaimer on these things, so here it is:**

**I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters. Unfortunately. They belong to the genius that is J.K Rowling. **

The next few days were spent were in front of the pensieve and the spread I created on the wall of Draco's living room. During the day, I spent my time going over what Narcissa's memory had captured, which hadn't been much. The memory only captured a glimpse of the attacker, which apparently was all Narcissa saw before she was cursed. Draco had been able to extract the partial memory, because it hadn't been eliminated through obliviation.

When Draco got home, I was watching the memory for the hundredth time that day. He set his jacket on the leather chair and asked me if I knew how Narcissa was doing.

"She's still sleeping," I replied distractedly. "We probably have a few hours before she wakes up."

"Any luck on the memory?"

I played it again. There was a small, muffled thump, and then a scratching sound. There was a few seconds of silence before a scream (presumably Narcissa's) that cut off relatively abruptly. I paused the memory as a figure flew in view. "There," I said. "That's our attacker."

"Dressed in black in the dead of night," he said dryly. "Helpful."

"But I was able to get some information from it," I continued as if he hadn't spoken. "Look at the attacker. Seems to be very short; clearly in flat shoes, because they weren't making a sound. I would guess about five feet two, five feet three inches."

"So either a very short man or a regular-sized woman," he inserted.

I pointed at the hooded figure's chest. "And see that glint? That's silver. A silver chain. I couldn't get a full view of it, but it seems delicate and thin. And the attacker has to pull up the edge of the robe to keep from stepping on it."

"It's a woman," he concluded.

"That doesn't tell us anything, though," I sighed. "The attacker could be on Polyjuice."

"Why would they bother?" he asked. "She, or he, didn't use any disillusionment charms, and expected the curse to erase her memory of the event. There was no point in using Polyjuice."

"You're right," I said. I twirled my wand in my fingers, thinking back to what I'd read about pensieves and enhancing memories. "I know that the necklace is shown in the memory, but I'm not sure how to illuminate the view."

"Here," he said, pulling out his wand. "_Videre_," he whispered, and his wand glowed slightly as the picture lit up the tiniest bit. We still couldn't view the attacker's face, or any other features, but when we paused the memory the right way, we could see the necklace.

"The pendant is red," he realized, lowering his wand.

"It's a locket with a rose on it," I told him. "Very distinct. And now we just need to find it."

"Simple," he said sarcastically.

I shrugged. "Have the draft in front of me of the female business rivals of your father. I think we can safely assume it's a woman at this point."

He nodded. I had a list in front of me an hour later (an hour of aimlessly watching the illuminated memory again and again).

There were ten women on the list. I placed their pictures on the wall, and Draco explained to me one by one who each of the women were.

He first pointed to a woman with a short blonde pixie haircut and icy blue eyes. "Her name is Isabella Hanover. Vice President of Hanover Corporations, daughter of Mr. Hanover. Absolutely despises my father, ever since he worked at Hanover with her."

"You slept with her," I said, knowing there was probably a ridiculous grin on my face.

He raised his eyebrows. "Excuse me?"

"You blushed when you saw her picture," I said nonchalantly. "And you crossed your legs."

Clearly he thought he was stealthier than that, because he scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous."

"Fine," I replied slyly, crossing my ankles as if I was completely innocent in all of this. "I'll get the story eventually."

"Well," he said brusquely, letting out a breath. "I think we can move on, can't we?"

"We start with Isabella," I agreed. "We have to go to her house if we want to find the locket."

"You want me to get a house visit?" he said incredulously. "It's not as if Hanover and I are friends…"

"It doesn't matter. He called about making a deal to 'modernize' his business, didn't he? Ask him to hold a get-together."

"We can visit his company," he mused. "She's bound to keep the necklace in her office, considering she has to wear it often enough to wear it when she's attacking my parents."

I shrugged. "We only have a small window. We need the party to be within a few days."

"All the women on this list are from either Hanover," he carefully rearranged the pictures into groups and labeled one of them Hanover, "or Briggs and Associates. Six of them knew him directly, and four of them were screwed over by him."

"Fine," I said. "If you can just convince Hanover that he should improve relations with Briggs and Associates…"

"Through a party," he finished. He yawned suddenly, blinking his eyes awake. I cast a quick _Tempus_ to check the time.

"It's midnight," I told him. "I think I'd better go home."

"And feel free to sleep in tomorrow morning," he said. "You can come in the afternoon, yeah?"

"Draco, do you know how much money you're paying me?" I asked. "I'll get here in the morning like I always do. So don't expect me to just show up here in the afternoon."

"Well, frankly, I don't care what you do," he replied. "Just get out, Granger." His teasing smirk softened the blow. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," I yawned, and quickly apparated home on the spot.

* * *

Alex came to my flat at ten in the morning, carrying a pastry bag and dressed in a breezy white sundress. When she saw me, she took off her sunglasses and smiled. I couldn't help but notice the dark bruises under her eyes. "Are you alright?" I asked, as I reflected how impossibly unfair it was how great she looked any hour of the day.

She shrugged. "I just have a slight cold." She slid around me and waltzed into the flat, turning around and holding up the pastry bag. "I got you some chocolate croissants."

I was about to comment that there was Pepper Up specifically designed to get rid of the common cold, but I was distracted by the word _chocolate. _"Honestly, Alex, you're an angel."

"You look as exhausted as I do," she commented. "Are _you _alright?"

"Yes, I was just working late with Draco."

She cocked her head to the side curiously. "Why were you with Draco? Don't you usually have the night shift on Thursdays?"

"Oh, yeah, I haven't told you," I remembered. "He hired me for a job."

She raised her eyebrows. "A job?"

I quickly explained the circumstances of Draco's offer, furiously digging into the chocolate croissant. When I was finished, she started rubbing her temples. "Hermione," she said slowly, "you do realize that there is a very small probability of you finding this cure?"

I sighed, wondering idly if I had any coffee left in the house. "I do."

"I can't believe you even agreed to this. Did you think about how awful you'll feel if you don't find the cure?"

Of course I'd thought about it. I'd agonized about it. I'd tossed and turned in bed, pondering what would happen in only a week and a half. Picturing a ticking clock in my head. I had thought about it all. But I couldn't have refused. I _knew_ that I could do it, if anyone could. And I was the one that allowed his father to die. I nodded.

"You know you're not responsible for this," she said quietly. "You don't have to feel as if you have to do this."

"You didn't hear the offer," I told her. "And it's the least I could do for him."

She shrugged, sipping her cappuccino daintily. "I think…" She was interrupted by a violent cough. The coffee cup dropped from her hand as she doubled over with large, hacking coughs. I frantically rushed into the kitchen to grab a bottle of Pepper Up.

"Here." I handed it to her, and she accepted it gratefully.

"Thanks," she whispered, her voice rough with abuse. "Sorry about that."

"That doesn't sound like a normal cough," I told her worriedly.

She shook her head. "I know you're the Healer and all, Hermione, but I promise that I'm fine." She drank a few more drops before I yanked it out of her hands. We were magical, but it wasn't as if we were invincible.

"Sure. Because all of my patients come to the hospital telling me exactly what they are inflicted with," I said, smirking when she glared at me.

"Don't you have to go play Sherlock Holmes with a certain blond-haired sex god?" she asked crossly, bending down and picking up her discarded coffee cup.

"Funny, I thought you were about to get married to the most famous-not to mention most desirable-wizard in the UK," I said.

She shrugged. "Just because I have Harry doesn't mean I can't admire other male specimen. Especially Draco. That man is _unbelievably _gorgeous."

I blushed. It wasn't like I had thought about him like that before… it was just that it was ridiculous that Alex thought about him like that. Yes, that sounded right. "You're preposterous."

"Oh, are we pulling out the SAT vocabulary words now?" she said snarkily. "I notice you only do that when you're embarrassed."

I rolled my eyes. "Well, I've got to get to Draco's. I'll be off."

She waggled her eyebrows. "Have fun." She paused, and asked if I was going to be attending Ginny's party the next night. "She specifically asked me if you and Draco would come," she elaborated. "And it looks like it'll be the event of the season."

I shook my head. "We have a lot of work to do."

"Suspects will probably be at the party," she suggested. "Maybe you could cover ground there."

I told her I would ask Draco and apparated to the Manor. It turned out he had convinced Mr. Hanover to hold the business gala at his mansion on the outskirts of London, so it would be in our best interests to go to the party.

I, for one, was against it. There were only too many times a girl could handle dressing to the nines in a week. It looked like I was going to have to get another high-end, floor length gown with toe-piching heels.

Oh, well. At least we'd make some progress in the investigation.

* * *

"I am so glad you could make it," Ginny said, smiling at me benignly as she clasped hands with Blaise. She looked absolutely stunning in her midnight blue dress, which cascaded down in the floor with fading feathers. "We remodeled the parlor; do you love it?"

"Of course I love it, Ginny," I said. She had turned it into a space with a neutral, minimalist feel.

"Honestly, it's gorgeous," Alex commented. "Is that an original Degas sketch?"

Blaise grinned. "Only the best for my darling wife."

Ginny laughed, her sparkling white teeth shining in the dark-lit room. "Oh, sweetie, you're such a flirt."

We met up with Pansy and Katie, who were dressed in effortlessly sexy gowns. Katie's lips were once again dressed in glossy red lipstick, and her pale, luminescent skin glowed under the chandelier. "It's good to see you guys again," I told them. Pansy pulled Draco aside immediately, and Katie and I engaged in small talk about our days at Hogwarts. Katie was as charming and likeable as I remembered, and I promised her that we would meet for coffee.

As I turned around, I noticed a gorgeous woman with blonde hair in elegant ringlets down her back, which was visible because of her completely backless shimmer dress. I saw Draco immediately stiffen, and Pansy's eyes narrow. The identity of the blonde-haired woman hung in the back of my mind, but I couldn't identify her.

"Oh, no," said Katie. "What on earth is Astoria Greengrass doing here?"

"Astoria Greengrass?" And then it clicked. "Draco's ex-wife." I'd heard about their divorce from reading the papers. Since Draco was such a high-profile businessman, every dirty detail had been covered by the reporters from the Daily Prophet. Most of them claimed that Astoria had cheated on Draco, and Draco had discovered it before demanding a divorce.

"I'm surprised Ginny invited her," she murmured. "Honestly. I haven't seen her since the divorce."

Astoria suddenly turned her head and looked at Draco and Pansy before averting her eyes and continuing to speak to Ginny, although she was visibly tenser.

"I don't think…"

And then there was a thump. Every person in the room turned towards the sound. Alex had fallen to the ground, her elegant black dress pooling around her. Harry immediately rushed to her side, while I ran towards her and performed a quick diagnostics charm.

"What's wrong with her?" he demanded of me.

The charm came up clean; not a single indication of poor health. "Nothing," I answered, bewildered. "Maybe her classes have been stressful on her and she's been experiencing extreme fatigue."

Ginny rushed up behind us with Blaise in tow. "Is she alright?"

"She should be fine. I will have to apparate with her to St. Mungo's."

"Of course, darling."

I gave her a quick hug. "Thank you for having us over, Ginny. I apologize for the spectacle."

"It's hardly anyone's fault. And you are free to come over anytime. In fact, fire call me later; we can set up dinner."

"That would be lovely," I said earnestly, and quickly got Alex and I to the hospital.

"She fainted," I told Kieran when we entered the emergency room. I had a weightless charm on her so that she floated behind me. "I performed the standard diagnostics test, and nothing is appearing. I'm assuming it is normal fatigue and stress…"

"We'll take care of her, Hermione," Kieran said. "If you want to go back to your party, I completely understand."

"No, of course not. I will be staying here with Alex."

He smiled. "Of course. How could I have ever thought you would do anything else?"

We performed the necessary tests on Alex, but they all turned up completely normal. She woke up within an hour, a little woozy but otherwise coherent. Kieran recommended she stay at home, but Alex refused, saying she had classes to attend.

"Are you sure you're alright?" I pressed. "You have to admit this is a little worrisome."

"I'm fine," she insisted. "I'm just a little overworked."

And, for once, I listened to her. After all, Alex was just as knowledgeable about health as I was.

I had work to do in the morning. I didn't have time to worry about her.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any of its lovely characters. **

-Interlude-

DUAL WITNESS TESTIMONY RECORD UNDER VERITASERUM

CASE: DIVORCE

SUBJECTS: DRACO and ASTORIA MALFOY

D. MALFOY: I filed for divorce because she _asked _me to.

A. MALFOY: I did not _ask _him to. I loved my husband. He's making up stories because he never listens to me.

D. MALFOY: She approached me two months ago telling me that she wanted a divorce because she had fallen in love with someone else. Why else would I file for divorce?

A. MALFOY: He filed because he never loved me in the first place. Our marriage was a sham of a pureblood arranged union.

D. MALFOY: Don't try to tell me I didn't love you. You're the one who carried on an affair for so long. I trusted and loved you enough to marry you, and you (_expletive_) another man while I'm away on business.

A. MALFOY: You were always away on business! You can't expect me to-

D. MALFOY: To wait around for me? Of course I thought I could expect you to wait around for me! You were my wife! And it's not like you were around any more than I was. You worked in the business world under Briggs.

A MALFOY: Well, clearly you don't think much of me, considering you're accusing me of having an affair!

D. MALFOY: You _admitted _you were having an affair. You told me you'd fallen for someone else. I found your notes that _you_ wrote to him.

A. MALFOY: You're lying. Why are you lying about this?

D. MALFOY: I'm not lying. I can't be lying. We're under Veritaserum, for (_expletive_) sake!

* * *

I promised myself I would check to see how Alex was doing in the morning, but I simply didn't have time. Narcissa was having one of her episodes early in the morning-screaming, crying, and clawing at her own skin-and Draco had called me frantically, asking what to do. I ended up having to sedate her when she wouldn't let go of the knife she'd found in the kitchen; she insisted that Draco was Voldemort, and she wasn't giving up her family without a fight.

It saddened me that she couldn't recognize us anymore. I knew this day was going to come, but the time limit had caught me off guard. Really, we only had a week left to save her. And the clock was ticking away.

Draco, who'd gotten no sleep, insisted we keep working. We had our suspects laid out on the table in front of us, their faces turning to the side, smiling, and then dropping the grin rapidly as if it was an effort to seem happy.

We began with Beatrix Crim. We had enlisted Harry's help in order to question them; having an auror's badge made it much easier to force people to answer your questions. We showed up to Briggs and Associates first with Harry in tow, who offered to just leave and let us question the people who were on our suspect list, but I insisted he stay. It seemed wrong that we should get to question whoever we wanted because we were friends with an auror; however, it _was _a bureaucracy, so it shouldn't have been a surprise.

Beatrix and Lucius had been business partners ten years ago. Lucius had decided that he wanted to quit and go to Hanover. He had promised Beatrix that he would get her a position as well, but it hadn't worked out.

Luckily, she consented to taking Veritaserum after Harry calmly told her that she was going to be taken into custody if she didn't cooperate. We only had to ask her a few questions before it was clear that she hadn't thought of Lucius in years.

By the time we were nearing the end of our list of suspects, we were sick to death of questioning people. Harry looked just as exhausted, his eyes falling shut as if it was an effort to stay awake. I couldn't entirely blame him, though; he had gone through a twenty-hour straight case at the Ministry before coming here.

We called in our last suspect at Briggs and Associates: a woman named Paige Vallis, who immediately said "I already know you're going to threaten me into taking Veritaserum, so you might as well give it to me now."

We did, and we began with simply asking her why she hated Lucius so much.

Paige raised her eyebrows. "The man was a selfish, slimy prat."

The response stooped me for a moment; this was the first person that hadn't pretended to praise the ground Lucius had walked on in order to avoid suspicion. "In what way?"

"He tried to get my co-worker, Pansy, and I fired when we refused to come and work at his investment firm. And he was almost successful." Paige brushed her long blonde hair out of her face, rolling her eyes as if she found this whole process tedious.

"You knew Pansy?" Draco asked.

"Of course I knew Pansy. Her office was right next to mine. We went out for coffee all the time." She shrugged. "Ever since she left for your firm, we haven't spoken much."

"Do you know why she left?" he questioned curiously, leaning forward. I wondered why he didn't know the answer himself; after all, Pansy was supposed to be his best friend.

She shook her head. "I don't have to answer that."

"I don't think…" he started, but I put my hand on his arm. Paige was right; she was under no obligation to answer those questions.

"Thank you, Miss Vallis," I said, pulling Draco with me. "Sorry for using your time."

When we got back to the manor, I had crossed off all of the suspects, including Paige Vallis. When I looked at the remaining suspects, I couldn't help but ask, "Why did you ask her why Pansy left Briggs?"

"She never told me," he said, frowning. "She appeared in my office one day, asking for a job. I was only too happy to give it to her."

"Did you offer her a relatively high position?"

"No, I couldn't. There were no openings. She had to work her way up from an entry-level job."

I couldn't help but wonder why Pansy would leave her position as a director of commerce at Briggs to work an entry-level position at Draco's company. But it was simply none of my concern; finding Lucius's murderer was.

* * *

When I got home, I was surprised to find three people lounging on my couch. Alex, Ginny, and Pansy were all dressed casually, holding glasses of wine and laughing leisurely.

"You know," I told them, dropping my bag on the coffee table, "it's customary to invite the host to a party."

Ginny waved her hand. "We knew you were coming back to your flat soon, anyway."

"I have a suggestion," Pansy said, smiling wryly. "Let's get knackered on firewhiskey."

"Pansy!" Ginny scolded her, trying and failing to keep a straight face. "That is not a very ladylike thing to do."

"Just because you insist on acting like a pureblood doesn't mean _I _have to."

After a few minutes, I decided to give into peer pressure and pour myself a glass of wine.

Once we were all sufficiently knackered, we started gossiping like we were in school again, finding any and all reason to laugh.

"I remember my days with Draco," Pansy eventually sighed. "We were each other's first kisses, you know."

"So you did date Draco!" Ginny exclaimed. "I thought you always knew you were gay."

Pansy shook her head, a drop of wine sloshing out of the glass. "I figured that if I couldn't fall for Draco-the most handsome boy in school-then I couldn't fall for any boy."

"I disagree," Ginny insisted. "I believe Blaise always gave Draco a run for his money."

"Oh, Blaise would have been my second choice." She sighed dreamily. "But Draco and I were such good friends, and he was the only person I knew who I could be willing to tell my secret."

"That's so sweet," Ginny said. "I always wanted a gay best friend."

She snickered. "Oh, Draco is _far _from being gay. Isn't that right, Hermione?"

I blushed furiously, hiding behind my wine glass. It wasn't as if she was suggesting that _I _would know, right?

"Anyway," she said, waving her hand, "I broke up with him once I got my first girlfriend."

"Really?" Ginny asked. "In Hogwarts, you mean?"

"The lovely Astoria Greengrass," Pansy sighed. "I had no idea she was interested in me until she pulled me into a broom closet before Charms."

"A quick fling?" I asked.

"No." Her face suddenly darkened. "We broke it off years later, when she informed me that she was marrying Draco Malfoy."

"Oh, dear," Ginny whispered, and reached out to grasp Pansy's hand gently. "I'm so sorry, love."

She shrugged. "It's over between us, anyway."

"Did he know?" I asked her, noticing my words were starting to slur together the tiniest bit. Wine was just as effective in getting people drunk as firewhiskey, it seemed, because everything seemed a little hazy. Alex was only watching silently. I couldn't help but notice her hands shaking slightly as she held her glass.

"Of course he didn't know. He wouldn't have married her if he had known. But I couldn't help but hate him all the same." All the humor had been lost from her face, and she suddenly downed the rest of the wine in her glass in one gulp.

"Hate him?" Ginny prodded. "It wasn't as if it was his fault."

"No," she agreed. "But there was never a time in my entire life where I wanted someone to suffer more than that moment."

I cringed. I couldn't imagine anyone wanting to seriously hurt Draco. He was obnoxious at times, but how could anyone wish him harm?

"Excuse me," Alex whispered. I watched her stand up and then stumble and fall to the ground.

"Alex, are you okay?" I asked, going to see if it was something serious or if she was just incredibly drunk. She lifted her head and opened her mouth to speak, but she was interrupted by a violent cough.

"Alex…" I said, grabbing her hand. The blood dripped off her palm onto my carpet as her eyes slid shut. "Alex, wake up." I grabbed under her arms, pulling her up and grabbing my wand. It was an enormously bad idea to apparate drunk, but I was sure that Alex's health was too precarious for me to worry about it.

Arriving at the hospital, I caught up with another Healer and informed her that she had been coughing up blood and fainted in my apartment. Watching my friend on a hospital bed had been incredibly sobering; I didn't feel an ounce of the alcohol I had consumed.

I waited in the hospital waiting room for two hours with only my thoughts to keep me company. Harry had arrived a few minutes after the hospital called, and he quickly begged me to stop pacing.

"I'm so sorry, Harry," I whispered after a long period of oppressive silence. "I thought… I thought she was fine. She told me she was fine."

He didn't answer; he only moved his hands to rub his temples. We were the only two left in the waiting room when my colleague, February Boeuf, came to tell us what was going on.

"She has internal bleeding," she said, and I bit my tongue to keep from snidely replying how incredibly obvious that was due to the _coughing up blood_. "But other than that, we have no idea what is wrong with her."

"You're joking," I said incredulously. "Are you incompetent?"

"Hermione," Harry told me sharply. "Don't insult the Healers."

I was struck by the irony of the situation briefly before February continued. "Something is very wrong with her, and we believe it is a muggle affliction. We have absolutely no way to counteract it. Until we figure out exactly what is happening to her that makes it impossible to use the standard Healing spells, we can't do anything for her."

"So," Harry said flatly, "what, exactly, are you going to do to make her better?"

"We can't do anything," she repeated. "We can keep her in the hospital and try harder to figure out what's happening to her body, but frankly, that's all."

"That's all?" he repeated, quiet, cold fury plain in his voice. "That's all? She's my fiancée and you can't even tell me what's wrong with her?"

February only looked down at her chart to avoid his eyes.

"You know what?" he said after a beat of silence. "Fuck this. I'm going to find someone who can do something." And then he disapparated in the middle of the hospital.

I followed his lead and went back to my flat. I figured that sleeping at St. Mungo's would do neither she nor me any good.

Clearly none of those Healers were going to be any help. Which meant I would have to figure out how to save her and Narcissa.

And I had a feeling that, along with Narcissa's, Alex's life had a time limit.


	7. Chapter 7

_En__try #47_

_When I was younger my mother used to pat me on the head and look at me with a smile like a black hole. She used to put me on her lap and then hold me a mile away from her chest as if I could contaminate her with my indifference. _

_When you're a child you're not told to love, because you're supposed to know. You're supposed to love and be loved, because you can smile and laugh and enjoy their company without thinking that there must be better things out there for you. _

_When you're a child there is a world of supposed-tos. You're supposed to feel moths in your stomach when you meet a boy you like, all soft smiles and tentative glances. You're supposed to be young and innocent and impulsive. Because logic is cold, lusterless steel and love is warm lips on icy skin. _

_But every supposed-to easily turns into a would-be, and every expectation falls through the cracks but doesn't desert your memory._

* * *

I knew, logically, that my body needed sleep. But my brain didn't, and it never did; it always seemed to spit out more information than I needed. It was like Healing finals all over again; I couldn't help but remember Alex's symptoms, and then match them to known magical and muggle afflictions.

Sitting in the hard plastic chair next to her bed was long and anxiety-inducing. Going back to the flat hadn't worked. I'd just started pacing back in forth in my living room, so I decided to do something much less useless and go back to the hospital. I began to lose track of time as I went through her medical reports again and again. Unfortunately, I hadn't been able to read through the lines as well as I'd hoped.

The other Healers had informed me that Alex had had a sudden seizure when I'd left, which should have helped, but I was completely confused. Her only symptoms had indicated internal bleeding, but no cause. While she was in her bed, she slipped in and out of consciousness. When she was awake, she was delirious; her eyes were unfocused and unsure.

When the other Healers came requesting to do more tests, I was promptly kicked out. I decided to go to the manor, because I clearly wasn't wanted near Alex while they were performing their obviously useless tests.

When I got there, Draco had grilled me about her condition, but I simply had nothing to say. He asked if we could go visit her, but I told him that the Healers would likely be running scans until the next morning. There was no way we were going to get in. So we decided to make some progress in the murder investigation and go to Hanover Consulting.

Draco informed me first that Isabella Hanover was ruthless. When she'd been instated as Vice President of Hanover Consulting, she'd been shunned by her employees, who assumed she'd gotten the job because she was Mr. Hanover's daughter. But after only a few months, she'd secured a deal with the largest fashion robe manufacturer in Britain, and the firm's net worth had skyrocketed. Now she was revered and feared by her underlings.

And it was true. The first word that came to mind upon meeting Isabella Hanover was intimidating.

She towered over me, easily six inches taller. Her jet black stiletto heels clacked on the marble floor as she approached us, her arms swaying leisurely at her sides. Her hair was a curious mixture of blonde and brunette, falling down her back in gentle waves.

"Why don't any of you business people wear robes?" I asked quickly, knowing she was still out of earshot.

Draco shrugged. "Muggle business clothes allow for more freedom. They're less heavy and look more formal. At this point, none of us wear robes to the office anymore."

"Draco Malfoy," she said, her voice matching her smile: cool and disinterested. Her face was like her personality, all sharp angles and captivating beauty; her eyes suggested the kind of determination that came through in every move she made. "What a pleasant surprise."

"Well," he replied, "if it isn't the whore of the wizarding business world. Did we interrupt a date with another C.E.O?"

"Of course not. I would never allow you to interrupt a personal venture," she smirked. "And it's especially nice to see you again. I missed the ramblings of the most inconsiderate, egocentric sociopath in the consulting branch." Her lilting melodic voice contrasted with her derogatory insults.

And then came the strangest occurrence: they shared the smallest smile, almost imperceptible, before she turned her head to me. This was obviously some sort of ritual. "And this is Hermione Granger, I presume?"

I only raised my eyebrows. "You've heard of me?"

"Well, of course. How couldn't I have heard about the bushy-haired tagalong to the hero of the wizarding world?"

I clenched my jaw. The corners of her mouth quirked up as her ice blue eyes sparkled briefly with vindictive pleasure.

"Isabella," Draco said, "we only need a moment of your time."

"_You _have a moment," she told him. "The sidekick is not worth my time. Clearly." She turned on her heel and walked away, her skin-tight pencil skirt accentuating the determined movement of her hips.

He looked at me helplessly. "It'll just be a few minutes."

"What? You're just going to leave me behind like I'm your bloody assistant?" I asked disbelievingly.

"She's not going to listen to the both of us. It's for the best," he replied, shrugging.

Rage boiled under my skin. This was not happening. My best friend was in the hospital and her fiancée was on a rampage trying to fix her. I had six days until Narcissa would likely die from the Dark curse or attempt to take her own life because of the effects of it. I was not allowing some ridiculous _bitch _to dismiss me like a servant.

"Fuck this," I said, barely containing my fury. I pointed my wand at her back. "_Expelliarmus_."

Her wand flew out of her reach and clattered to the floor. She turned around slowly, her eyes locked on mine.

"Well, well," she said, speaking so quietly I could hardly hear her. She wordlessly Accio'd her wand back to her hand and I barely had a moment to be impressed by her wandless magic before she shot a _Stupefy _at me.

I managed to block it before she sent a bond bind. "Are you going to make it easy on me?" she asked, her soft voice mildly taunting.

I shot a stunning charm at her, which she countered with an _Immobulus_. I tried to disarm her again, but she only smirked before she sent a curse that would blind me, and I sent back a deafening spell. We were walking closer as she shot a spell that created a line of fire from her wand, and I wordlessly turned it into ice.

Suddenly, I felt my wand being ripped from my grasp. We turned towards Draco, the guilty party, and prepared to stun him out of his wits, but he held up his hand and said, "Haven't you proven to each other that you're both formidable opponents?"

We glared at each other angrily before she straightened up, brushing her hands down her skirt before summoning her wand back to her hand.

She looked at me. "Well, you have my attention," she said, turning on her heel and walking away. We had to walk at twice our normal speed to catch up with her.

She led us to her office, sitting down in a tall leather chair and folding her hands in front of her. "You have three minutes," she informed us, looking at me.

"We need to question three of your employees about information regarding Lucius' death," Draco said immediately.

"And you," I added.

"I'm a suspect?" she clarified. When we didn't answer, she shrugged. "Wise assumption. I did hate your father."

"We also need to speak to Elena Ashmoore, Thea Ayers, and Emeline Olingworth," Draco listed. "Hermione will be here to ask you a few questions."

"And I suppose you've bribed a few Aurors in order to force me to comply?" she asked.

"You know me so well," he sighed, moving towards the door. "We'll be gone in an hour."

When he left, I looked at Isabella, who was staring at me expectedly. I cleared my throat. "I'm sorry for using your time like…"

"Well, then, let's drop the bullshit, shall we? I'm certainly not going to listen to your meaningless, insincere apologies."

I exhaled. She clearly wasn't going to make this easy on me. "I just need to know what your involvement with Lucius Malfoy was."

"We had a deal with him three years ago. He treated my top consulting pod-" she paused. "My apologies. By 'pod' I'm referring to a group of consultants that work together on certain deals. I forget that some of Draco's friends don't know common consulting terms."

I smiled as if I found her condescending air of superiority charming.

"Anyway," she continued, "he treated my top pod as if they were dirt underneath his Italian leather shoes and canceled the deal and the last moment."

"And that made you angry."

"Don't think I'm going to do your job for you, Granger. But yes, it was an eighty-million galleon deal that he dangled in front of us."

"And where were you the night of Lucius' death?"

"Here," she replied. "And I'm sure my other employees can only verify that fact." She smiled at me without a hint of warmth. "Now, are we finished? I have a portkey to France I have to catch."

"What is your relationship with Draco?" I blurted out suddenly, my eyes widening in surprise at my own outburst.

She raised her eyebrows. "Oh, there's that Gryffindor courage I heard so much about. I wouldn't know, of course, considering I attended Beauxbatons, but there are so many Slytherins in the business world nowadays."

"Just answer the question!" I snapped.

"Draco and I used to be good friends back when he was still married to the wicked bitch of Briggs. He was my only ally when I was named Vice President of this company."

It was on the tip of my tongue to ask when they had started sleeping together, and from the look on her face, she knew it. "Anything else?" she asked innocently.

After a moment of thought, I shook my head. She smirked. "Well, I'm going to meet Paige for lunch."

"Paige Vallis?" I asked.

"Of course. Us successful gals have to stick together," she replied lightly. "And feel free to never come back to my office again."

* * *

When Draco and I arrived at the hospital to visit Alex, Harry was already there, planted on a blue plastic chair. He didn't acknowledge our presence, instead opting to stare out the window. He simply looked awful. He clearly hadn't showered or changed his clothes since Alex had gotten here. His eyes were bloodshot and unfocused.

"The Healers say that her organs are failing," he told us, his voice hoarse with misuse. No doubt he'd been yelling at them earlier. "They still have no idea the cause, although she might have a better chance if her best friend was there to help her."

"Harry…" Draco started.

"You know, I never knew you valued piles of galleons over friendship," Harry said, looking at me with an expression that reminded me of stone. "Draco must be paying you quite a handful."

"You're asking me to choose between Alex and Draco, Harry. You can't expect me to just let Narcissa die."

"No, I expect you to choose your best friend over this self-important git!" he shouted.

Draco raised an eyebrow, covering his surprise with indifference. "Funny, I thought we were on somewhat amicable terms."

"You'll always be the soulless bastard who hid behind his father's robe, Malfoy," he spat. He turned to me. "Alex should be your first priority."

Draco looked at me. "Well, Granger?"

I bit my lip. I knew what he was asking. But Harry was right; Alex should have been my first priority, Narcissa should have been none of my concern; Draco shouldn't have been, either.

My silence must have answered his question, because he put on his coat. "Of course, Ms. Granger," he said formally, the fluorescent lights casting shadows across the angles of his face as he straightened up. "Consider our agreement terminated." I flinched as he slammed the door on the way out.

I kept my promise to Harry.

I worked all night performing tests and running scans. It was at three thirty in the morning when I finally saw something in the scans that I hadn't seen before: something spreading through her body in her bloodstream, deadly and striking.

"It's a poison," I said aloud.

Harry's head snapped up. "You're saying someone did this to her intentionally?"

"I'm sure of it. And it appears she ingested it."

"We need to get a poisons master," he realized, rubbing his eyes. "I know a man in Diagon Alley. I'm sure he knows someone who can help us."

While he was gone, I busied myself with examining the few books on poisons I owned. From the material, it seemed as if slow-acting magical poisons had a similar trait: they all only needed to be ingested once before becoming deadly. The lifespan of the victim following the poison, however, varied from solution to solution by years. I could only hope there was a simple antidote.

Harry returned with what I assumed was the poisons master. He introduced himself as Potions Master Delacourt, and immediately pushed past me to examine the test results, requesting that we leave him be in order to figure out exactly what was ailing her.

And once again, we were waiting in the hallway, twiddling our thumbs and staring at the wall. With all the bustle of the hospital, I still couldn't hear a word, too focused on what had transpired earlier. Surely Draco didn't mean it. Surely I could come over tomorrow morning when this was blown over. "I can't believe you said those things to him," I told Harry, remembering the kind of insults he'd thrown at him.

"I've said worse," he said, dismissing me. "He'll forget about it in time."

But I couldn't forget the betrayed look on his face when I hadn't stood up and said I'd try to help his mother until her dying day. And somehow I knew it wasn't going to be easily forgiven.

Delacourt had our answer an hour later. "It's called _Langzame Marteling_," he explained, "roughly translating to 'slow torture' in Dutch."

"And how is it cured?" asked Harry impatiently.

He beckoned us into Alex's room, shutting the door behind us and whispering an incantation. "The only way to get the antidote is to trace it back to its creator," he said. "Magical poisons reveal a magical signature, just as Dark Curses do. The magical signature takes the form of a plant. Each one is unique and recognizable."

A smoke-like substance creeped up above Alex's chest and twisted around itself, lighting up to form a brilliant red and green. It was a beautiful thorned rose. And it clicked. Draco had performed this exact same spell on Narcissa, telling me that we'd see a plant, completely unique to the caster. And a rose had formed in front of Narcissa: same deep red, same full bloom.

_That _was the key.

The caster and the poison maker was the same person.


	8. Chapter 8

_Astoria, _

_Seeing as your beloved husband is away on business yet again, I thought it would be a perfect opportunity to take another weekend in Paris. I recall you commenting that you would love to come back, and I can't help but agree; it is rather romantic. _

_With all my love, _

_Red _

* * *

When I returned back to my flat, I received a note through owl from Gringotts Bank. It simply stated that _a deposit of 70,000 galleons has been placed into your Gringotts vault._

It shocked me that it had been a week and a day; it felt like a much shorter amount of time. I wondered if this was supposed to be his severance money. I hoped he'd listen to reason, because I certainly wasn't going to stop working to save Narcissa's life, especially considering the fact that Lucius' killer and Alex's attempted murderer was one and the same.

Harry and I were in front of the gate to the Manor bright and early the next morning. We were about to go in before Pansy apparated in front of us, folding her arms in front of her chest.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," she advised.

"What are you doing here?" I asked. I tried to get around her to go through the gate, but she blocked my entrance lazily.

"Draco has arranged it so that the wards will keep you out of the manor using _very_ unpleasant methods. I don't think you want to discover any of them."

"You're saying he blocked me from the house?" I clarified, flabbergasted. I'd never imagined Draco would be this angry.

"Yes, actually. I believe that is exactly what I said." Her face held none of the warmth I'd seen the night we'd gotten drunk in my flat.

"You can't be serious."

"Oh?" she asked, fury finally leaking into her voice. "I can't be? Draco is out there _exhausting _his resources trying to find someone to save his mother because someone he trusted abandoned him and his family. Meanwhile, Narcissa is here and I am on constant watch to make sure she doesn't impale herself with one of Draco's kitchen knives or throw herself down the stairs. Does that sound like a joke to you, Granger?"

"Just let me go in, Hermione," Harry said, a yawn almost making his words incomprehensible. "I'll just go to check on Narcissa."

"Did you think he'd forgotten what you said?" Pansy asked, turning to him. "The wards will keep you out too, Potter."

"But…" I said helplessly.

"You know, you two should have been Slytherins," she commented, unlocking the gate for herself and closing it behind her, turning around. "My mother always said that a Slytherin doesn't just kill the man that wrongs him; he tortures him first."

"Pansy…" I tried again, hoping that if maybe I could just talk some sense into her-

"Draco doesn't want you contacting him or his mother again. And I have to agree with him," she said over her shoulder. "So turn around and get the fuck out."

I managed to find Draco at Hanover, speaking closely Isabella. They were conversing in hushed voices, Draco gesturing wildly with his hands. I considered neglecting to go after him; after all, he looked like he was having plenty of success with the blonde-haired witch.

But I couldn't just let this go. Despite my best intentions, I had started to care what Draco thought of me. I didn't want him to think I'd given up on his mother; I hadn't. And I wanted him to know that I was still trying, paid or not.

I walked up to him, hoping he understood that I meant business. He was obviously intent on ignoring me, because it was Isabella who first acknowledged my presence. "And after I asked you ever so nicely to never come back," she sighed. "Some people just don't listen."

"Draco," I said deliberately. "I am sorry for neglecting to stand behind you in the hospital last night."

He turned around, looking at me blankly. "Haven't I already paid you your fee?"

I promptly ignored him. "You _know _I have done everything I could for your mother. And I am going to cure her, just like I'm going to cure Alex."

He exhaled. "Granger…"

"Shut it," I said, pointing my finger at his chest. "You," I poked him sharply, making him stumble back a little, "are going to listen to me. I am going to help your mother whether you like it or not. It is not optional. You do not get to _sack _me and expect me to go away like one of your employees."

"Granger…"

"I don't care about the money. I never cared about the money. I'm going to find the cure, whether you pay me or it's behind your back. I'm _insulted_ that you think you can just ban me from the Manor, put up wards to keep me out, and tell Pansy to shout at me from behind your pretentious front gate."

He looked at Isabella helplessly. "Granger…"

"And stop calling me by my last name, you twat! Do I call you 'Malfoy' anymore? No, I don't, because we're not bloody children!"

"Alright!" he said loudly, drawing some more spectators in to view our ridiculous fight. "I'm sorry that I behaved like a child."

I took a deep breath and smiled. "That is all I ask."

Isabella burst into laughter beside him. We both looked at her strangely as she straightened up, wiping tears from your eyes. "What?" she asked. "It just became so obvious who wears the trousers in your relationship, that's all."

Without bothering to ponder what that meant, I told him I had some information regarding the case. Once Isabella had left, I filled him in on what I had discovered in the hospital. He was outraged to hear that someone had poisoned Alex, but was encouraged to find that if we found one killer, we found the other. He told me that he'd been asking Isabella if she knew anything, if at all, about Lucius' private life. Unfortunately, she had little useful information.

"It simply doesn't make sense," he said. "Who would have motive to poison Alex and kill my father?"

"Alex is your good friend, Lucius raised you. It seems like whomever it was wanted you to suffer," I told him. "Now we know that it isn't an enemy of Lucius…"

"It must be one of mine," he realized.

And that was when our search started again.

* * *

I ended up going to Briggs again, intent on speaking to Paige Vallis. She'd worked with Astoria, and I couldn't help but count her a suspect. Draco had ended the marriage suddenly, and she must have had some ill will towards him. Based on the reports, it looked as if their divorce was far from amicable.

The second I walked into Paige's office, she rolled her eyes and grabbed the files off of her desk, frankly informing me that she had a meeting to go to.

"You worked with Astoria," I blurted out.

"Listen, Granger, if you're going to waste my time…"

"Before she left the company, did she seem…" I paused, trying to think of the appropriate choice of words. "Angry at Draco for divorcing her?"

"I can't exactly speculate about Astoria's reasons for being angry at some unspecified point in time," she said, walking towards the door. "Now excuse me."

I had to jog after her as she started walking quickly down the stairs. "Fine. Did she seem especially angry around the period of the divorce proceedings?"

"At first, she was just acting incredibly listless and depressed when he handed her the divorce papers." She shook her head. "Her husband gave her the papers in the middle of a workday in front of her assistant; that kind of gossip spread like wildfire."

I almost snorted; that sounded exactly like something Draco would do.

"And then she came into work one day acting like she'd been asleep for the past six months," Paige continued. "She couldn't remember the name of a client she'd been nursing into a deal for three weeks. When her husband came back to schedule a meeting with the lawyers, she starting shouting and generally making a scene, demanding how he dare divorce her when she'd done nothing but love him. I almost fired her right then and there."

Strange; that sounded like a victim of obliviation. But why would anyone obliviate her? "Did she receive any strange fire calls or visitors?"

"Yes. She'd receive phone calls and insist on taking them. She'd lock herself in her office; sometimes I'd walk by and see her giggling and laughing and twirling her hair."

"Do you think those were with her husband?"

"Her husband never fire called her. Not while she was working at this company."

It had to be someone else. "Did she ever leave work early and make a strange excuse?"

"Yes, actually. She requested a weekend off. Her assistant complained that she had asked her to take all calls from her husband and tell him that she was going on a business trip."

She was having an affair. The obliviation would explain why she'd reacted so angrily towards Draco's request for a meeting with divorce attorneys even after she'd been served the papers. She'd been obliviated before she could reveal to Draco, or the courts, whom she was having an affair with; the obliviator was the man she'd been sneaking out to see that weekend and lied about time and time again.

And then I remembered something: something I'd heard behind the haze of wine and laughter. "And where, exactly, was Pansy in all of this?"

She stopped in her tracks.

"Ms. Vallis," I said, slowly and deliberately, "did Pansy and Astoria ever speak to each other? Get off of work and leave together?"

She didn't answer, refusing to look in my direction.

"Was she working the weekend that Astoria requested off?"

There was a moment of silence before she walked away quickly, the files held tightly in her arms. I didn't bother to chase after her.

Pansy's manor was as large as Draco's, yet not nearly as foreboding. A simple garden spread behind the gate, a beautiful fountain planted next to the entryway. The gate opened easily, and I assumed there were no wards keeping me out, considering I didn't immediately burst into flames. Katie opened the door quickly after I knocked, smiling warmly and commenting, "Hermione! It's amazing to see you again, darling."

I hugged her and smiled in return. "It's so nice to see you, Katie. I thought maybe we could have a cup of tea?" It sounded like a plausible request, and it wasn't as if she knew I despised tea.

"Of course, I'd love to! I wanted to catch up, but I feel like I never have the time. I'll go brew a pot."

"Do you mind if I use the loo?" I called out as she rushed to the kitchen, and she shouted that it was the third door on the right of the hallway.

I had to search through four rooms in order to find Pansy's master bedroom, but I was finally successful. I hadn't heard the whistle of the kettle blow, so I assumed I had a small window of time.

I went through her drawers first, rifling through various files and personal papers. When I couldn't find anything, I decided to go through her closet and wardrobe. My head snapped up as I heard Katie call my name, asking if everything was alright. And I was about to give up.

But then I decided to check one more place: under the giant, four-poster bed that Pansy and Katie obviously shared.

And there, I found a small box pushed into the corner, where none of light from the candles could reach it. In it was a stack of little notes, all addressed to Pansy.

_Pansy, _

_ I look forward to another day in bed with you. _

_ A.M_

_ Pansy, _

_ I missed you last night. I feel like you haven't owled me in ages. _

_ A.M_

_ Pansy, _

_ Thank you so much for the weekend in Paris, love. I'm sorry I haven't owled in a while, but Draco is in London for the week, and we were supposed to be catching up. He'll be gone by the next weekend, and we can meet again in our special place by the tree. _

_ A.M_

They went on and on, all exactly the same, expressing sentiments of love but saying almost nothing at all. I couldn't help but cringe at some of the things she'd written about Draco; clearly she'd had no love, or respect, for him. And Pansy obviously had no respect for her either; she'd had an affair with her and then obliviated her, keeping only these notes as a memory of their meaningless tryst.

And then I noticed something glinting in the box. I cast a _lumos _to brighten it up, wondering if she'd just left a few sickles behind. But it wasn't a few sickles.

It was a pendant I'd seen before, only it had been embedded deep in Narcissa's memory. A dark red locket on a silver chain in the shape of a rose.

_A Slytherin doesn't just kill the man that wrongs him; he tortures him first_, she'd told me earlier that morning.

And it became crystal clear exactly whom she was speaking of.


	9. Chapter 9

_The New Wunderkind of Consulting_

_Katie Bell, famously known as the new face of consulting, has paved a new way for her company. Recently, she split from her former employer, Briggs and Associates, to start up her new firm, which has already gotten tons of attention-not to mention, tons of clients. _

_When she arrives for the interview, she unsurprisingly exudes confidence in every step she makes. She's dressed in a chic black pant suit and structural pumps, the high point of muggle business fashion. I am shocked to see her giving me a wide smile, laughing and making fun of me for carrying a clipboard. When I offer her a seat on a plush couch, she instead suggests we go for a walk. _

"_I know I'm young," she starts, linking her arm with mine. "Not even thirty. But I like to be taken seriously," she pauses, giggling, "every once in a while."_

"_How did you do it?" I ask her, amazed at her exuberance. "You said it yourself; you're not even thirty, and yet you've set up a very potentially successful firm in only two years."_

"_I don't really know, actually," she admits, laughing self-consciously. "I never thought I'd be able to pull this off. When I worked at Briggs, I decided to try and get a few investors for my own firm. One moment I'm putting all of my assets into my company, and the next I'm getting clients left and right."_

"_I've been told that it took hundreds of thousands of galleons to start up the firm. Who were your primary investors?" _

"_Well, we managed to get a few independent investors," she replies, "but my biggest supporter was my lovely fiancée, Pansy Parkinson."_

"_How adorable!" I say, and she smiles, looking radiantly happy. "You both chipped in to make the start up?"_

"_Pansy supported me all along the way," she sighs. "I couldn't have done it without her."_

"_When are you two getting married?" I ask, curious. Ever since Astoria and Draco Malfoy's tragic divorce, Pansy and Katie are the new, uncontested power couple of the business world-and undoubtedly the most attractive couple the wizarding world has seen since. _

_She opens her mouth to answer, and then shrugs. "We haven't set a date yet."_

"_That is just too cute," I squeal. When I worry that she must have work to do, she reassures me that she has a few minutes to continue our little chat. "I just have one more question," I tell her. "Did you always want to be a business woman?"_

_She tilts her head. "Well, when I was in school I wanted to be a professional Quidditch player. Rather ridiculous, yeah?"_

"_And what made you decide to go into consulting?"_

_She and I come to a halt in front of her building. "Well, in my sixth year I had an accident that put me in the hospital wing for several months. Unfortunately, I was told I'd never be able to play Quidditch again."_

"_How tragic!" I exclaim. _

_Katie ducks her head and smiles at me. "I realized very quickly that being a professional Quidditch player was a silly childhood dream. I found much more joy in working in the business world."_

"_A happy ending after all," I tell her, and she laughs along with me. _

* * *

"Where were you the night that Lucius was murdered?" Harry asked, folding his arms in front of him and pacing forward.

Pansy had her hands bound behind her back, looking up at him with an expression of obvious defiance. "I told you that I was at dinner alone. Katie was working late at her office, and I went home, did some reading, and went to bed."

"And what did you have for breakfast that morning?"

She narrowed her eyes. "What, exactly, does that have to do with anything?"

Harry shrugged. "Making conversation."

"I believe I had eggs and a glass of orange juice," she said, and then paused, shaking her head. "No, that's wrong. I had an omelette."

"And what did you have for dinner?" he continued, standing in place and twirling a quill in his fingers.

"Um, I think I had lobster."

"Isn't that rather pricey during this time of year?" he asked. "Well, any time of year. Were you celebrating something?"

"No, I wasn't," she said deliberately. "I just felt like splurging a little."

"And what did you do when you went home?"

She scoffed. "I already told you, I went back home and did some reading. And then I went to bed."

"And you woke up at what point the next morning?"

"I really don't see how all of this is relevant," she said, swallowing and clenching her jaw.

Harry shrugged. "Oh, it's not. I was just wondering."

"I suppose I woke up at seven and went to work at eight."

He nodded and turned to walk out of the interrogation room, closing the door behind him. Draco and I were standing together, watching as Pansy stared straight into the window.

"From what I can tell, she's not lying. But if she were able to create a Dark curse like the one Narcissa had been affected by, she could have easily gotten around the Veritaserum issue. Skilled Death Eaters have been known to create spells making them immune to it."

"So look at body language," Draco said. We turned to look at him curiously. "You can tell if someone's lying by their body language. All we have to do is read her facial expressions."

"And how are you planning on doing this?" Harry demanded.

"I am very good at spotting lies," he said flatly. "Especially from Pansy. She's been my best friend for over fifteen years."

"Fine," he sighed. "Then ask the questions. We'll be back here."

Draco shrugged, opening the door to the room. Pansy raised an eyebrow when he entered, leaning forward in her chair. "Draco?" she asked. "You think I killed him?"

"Well, I don't know what I believe," he replied. "Did you know that Astoria was having an affair?"

"Of course not."

He nodded slightly. "But you had a relationship with her."

"I never had a relationship with her."

"She's lying," I told Harry. "She told Ginny and I that they had a relationship. She must not have remembered telling us because she was drunk."

Draco opened up a file on the table, pulling out a folded up piece of paper. "Is that Astoria's handwriting?"

She raised her eyebrow. "I wouldn't know."

"And did you have an affair with Astoria during our marriage?"

She sat back in her chair. "What?"

"Did you have an affair with her and then obliviate her?" he repeated, leaning forward and putting his hands on the table.

"You can't be serious. No, of course not!"

He straightened up and, without a word, walked out of the room. He closed the door behind him and shook his head. "She's lying."

"You're sure?" Harry asked.

"I'm sure. She knew Astoria was having an affair and she had a relationship with her. She recognized her handwriting." He paused. "There was something off, though."

"About what?" I asked.

"She was surprised when I asked her if she was having an affair with Astoria. She sat back in her chair and her jaw dropped. Classic signs of surprise."

"Maybe she was surprised that we knew about it," Harry said, shrugging. "You two can go home. I'll stay here and try to get more out of her."

"We already know she's lying," I interjected, confused. "Why do you need any more?"

"The Wizengamot will only hear a murder case if there's a full confession under Veritaserum," Harry said. "We just need her to crack."

"But we need her wand," I said. "That's the only way to make a counterspell for the curse on Narcissa."

"And create a cure for Alex," Draco added.

Harry shook his head. "She purchased a new wand four days ago. She claims she discarded the old one."

Draco laughed derisively. "Of course. She wanted to get rid of the only way we could save them."

"We'll try to find the wand," he said. "Wizards don't just throw wands away in the bin. She must have kept it somewhere."

"We'll find it," I said. "But for right now, we're leaving."

I managed to drag Draco with me out of the front of the door of the Auror department. I couldn't blame him for being shell-shocked; he'd just found out that his closest, and oldest, friend had betrayed him in almost every way possible. I was just amazed that Pansy was able to keep up the act for so long while simultaneously trying to ruin his life.

On the street, I paid for the new issue of _Witch Weekly_, hoping it would help take my mind of things, if only for a little while. On the cover was Katie's bright, shining face, wearing her signature red lipstick and a smile. I flipped open to the page with her interview, flinching at how happy she seemed.

"Sad, isn't it?" I asked. "She's so ecstatic to be marrying Pansy."

"Yes, it'll be terrible," he said flatly, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Maybe she'll get more out of Pansy than we can."

I shrugged. "I suppose we get to be the ones to tell her."

We linked arms as we apparated to Pansy's manor, hoping if we didn't say anything out loud, it wouldn't be real. Katie opened her door, greeting us with a grin. "What are you two doing here?"

We looked to each other and looked away. "We have something to tell you," Draco said, his voice quiet.

Her smile disappeared. "What's this about?"

"Pansy is at the Auror department," he explained. "She's been arrested for the murder for my father and poisoning Alex."

"That's…" she exhaled. "That's ridiculous."

"We found some notes under your bed addressed to Pansy. They were written by Astoria." I bit my lip. "It looks like they were having an affair."

She shook her head adamantly. "No, that's impossible. Pansy would never cheat on me."

"Katie," Draco said gently. "You both work long nights. She did it right under your nose."

"No. You _know _Pansy, she would never do something like this! She would never hurt anyone. She loves me. She would never have an affair, especially with your ex-wife."

He cleared his throat. "They were having an affair while we were still married."

She rolled her eyes. "That's even more ridiculous. They have nothing on her. I'm going to the Auror Department and getting her out of there."

"She is going to stay there until she confesses. If you go there, you won't be able to see her unless you agree to help get some answers out of her."

"Wrong," she said. "She doesn't have to say anything." She grabbed her coat and her wand. "I won't aid your case against her. So get off my porch so I can go see my fiancée."

She promptly disappeared on the spot. I sighed. I hadn't had much hope that she'd side with us against Pansy, but it was worth a try. I grabbed Draco's hand and apparated to his manor, knowing Ginny was probably going crazy. We'd left Narcissa in her care temporarily, and I knew from experience that watching her for more than a half hour was horrifying, not to mention she was getting progressively worse.

Ginny was frazzled as she opened the door. "Thank Merlin," she said, disappearing in front of us immediately. I sighed and entered the house, scanning the living room for Narcissa.

She was sitting in front of the fireplace, arms wrapped around her knees. Her eyes were wide and her pupils dilated. She was staring into the fire, the light casting unsettling shadows across her face. "You know," she said quietly. "Lucius was always so obsessed with fire."

"Mother, I think it's time for you to go to bed," Draco inserted firmly. He grabbed for her hand, but she yanked it away.

"Lucius knew all of the fire-starting spells," she said. "Used to light up important documents and just watch them burn."

Draco looked panicked. "Mother…"

"I remember that, one day, a fire-starting spell went very wrong. My son Draco got in front of it at the wrong time. Lucius refused to let me take him to St. Mungo's, and forced me to heal him. But I didn't do a very good job of it."

"Mother!" he shouted sharply. "I'm right here."

"I later took him to a Healer privately and paid him off so he wouldn't tell anyone. But I always remembered."

I looked to Draco, who had the plainest expression of shame I'd ever seen. How he could be ashamed of such a terrible event, I didn't understand. Then again, I had never really understood Draco at all.

"I'm so tired," she murmured. "I keep waiting for him to kill me. I keep waiting for a night when he comes into my room and curses me dead. But it's coming-I can feel it."

"Narcissa," I told her. "Let's get you to bed, alright?"

She flinched away from me and got up, padding her way up the stairs. Knowing she was probably taking herself to her room, I let her go.

The silence nearly suffocated us. I sensed that we weren't going to speak of this, weren't going to acknowledge she'd said what she said.

"I'm going to bed," he told me. "We'll work on this tomorrow morning, yeah?"

And I felt a kind of finality as he shut off the lights and I went back to my flat, knowing maybe, just maybe, we could save both Alex and Narcissa after all.


	10. Chapter 10

_Entry #68_

_ She tasted like regret and bittersweet chocolate. _

_ She loved to drink, loved to drown herself in wine from her husband's wine cellar. She was so unhappy that it leaked into her appearance: her once perfect exterior was now an echo of a once perfect life. _

_ I had gone after her because I wanted her, because I wanted to control her. I wanted her to worship me and love me and do anything for me. _

_ But it didn't quite work that way. She'd given me her devotion, but I would always come second to her handsome and successful husband. Perhaps that was why she drank; she wanted to forget that she had what she wanted but not what she needed, what she breathed for. _

_ Our relationship inevitably came to an end, and she slowly lost every shred of happiness she had in her life. I didn't mind. I hadn't cared for her and I knew I never could._

* * *

I decided to sleep in one of the guest bedrooms in the Manor after looking at the time and discovering it was already so late. Narcissa managed to sleep through the night, which was quite a feat. I woke up early in the morning and cooked breakfast (after conjuring the necessary ingredients and equipment, because it was obvious neither of them cooked). I did it the Muggle way, because to me, food always tasted better when cooked from scratch.

It was no use; she refused to eat. Her eyes were bloodshot and her skin was getting a pale, waxy quality. She hadn't eaten anything for twenty-four hours and she refused to drink anything except water. There was no way I could force her to eat anything without a feeding tube.

Draco woke up shortly after I did. Narcissa was just staring out the window, unmoving. Draco sat next to me, not even bothering to speak to her. Clearly this sort of behavior was familiar to him.

"She's not eating, then?" he asked quietly. Narcissa didn't show any sign of hearing him.

"No," I replied, picking up a piece of toast I'd made for myself and taking a bite. "Draco?"

"Yes?"

"Last night. What Narcissa said about Lucius burning you." I inhaled and held my breath, trying to gather the courage to ask. "Was it true?"

His head didn't turn my direction. "Some days my mother is more coherent than others," he said after a moment, snapping his fingers as a lighter appeared in front of him. He lit up a cigarette and stood, inhaling the smoke and exhaling slowly. "I'm going to look at the interview again. Are you coming?"

He took me to a giant pensieve, commenting to close the door behind me. "I'm going to show you what I saw when Pansy was speaking."

He waved his wand and we were pulled into the memory, landing in front of Pansy. She was wringing her hands, looking at the table in front of her.

Draco pointed to her fingers. "She's nervous," he said. "But that doesn't prove she's guilty."

Harry entered the room, setting a file down on the desk. He opened his mouth to speak, but I couldn't hear anything. Draco told me that he'd cast a quick Silencing charm, and all we needed was in her body language. "Look," he said, pointing at Pansy's face. "He asks her where she was the night of Lucius' murder, and her eyes slide to the right and dart back and forth, meaning her brain was looking for information. She's correcting herself when he asks what she ate, meaning she doesn't have a prepared answer. I _told _him to ask those questions because I wanted to see if she was lying."

"And why would she lie about her breakfast and dinner choices?"

"Sociopaths and pathological liars tend to lie about anything, to the point where the truth is an abnormality. I wanted to see if she lied about random details."

"How did you know she was lying about anything else?"

He paused as Harry leaves and, soon, Draco himself comes into the interrogation room in the memory. "I ask her if she knew Astoria was having an affair, and she pushes her hair behind her ear. Sign of manipulation. I ask her if she had a relationship with her, and she looks down and scratches her nose. Lying. I ask her if the note is written by Astoria, and she doesn't even _look _at it before she claims that she wouldn't know. She doesn't even try to recall if she knows what Astoria's handwriting looks like before she jumps to say there's no way she would know."

"So she's lying about everything," I concluded. "Why are we here?"

"That's where I'm confused," he said, and I watched as Pansy sat back in her chair as Draco asked his final question. "She's clearly dumbfounded by the question. And she's angry that I would even ask that; she stands up out of her chair. She knows that Astoria was having an affair, but it wasn't her."

"We found the notes, Draco. She's lying," I said deliberately.

"She's not. Those notes must have been forgeries," he insisted. "You saw her face. You saw her surprise."

"You're saying that someone forged those notes, got the necklace, and placed it under her bed?"

"I know Pansy, Hermione," he said. "I know that she's not the one who did this."

"But she could know who did," I finished for him.

* * *

Pansy looked at us from behind the table, folding her hands in front of her. "It's no use trying to accuse me anymore," she said, tilting her head back to stare at me. "I'm already being charged."

"We're actually here to get you released," Draco said frankly. "But you have to answer a few questions first."

She looked incredibly confused, but cleared her throat and nodded.

"How long did you have a relationship with Astoria?" he asked first, pulling up a chair and taking a seat across from her. I stayed in the corner, leaning against the bars. It was much better to just observe Draco when he was this focused.

She took in a breath and let it out slowly. "Five years."

"How did you know she was having an affair?"

She shrugged. "She worked with me. I saw a few notes on her desk."

"Who signed them?"

She looked at me and turned her head to look at him. "It wasn't a name on the notes."

"Then what was it?"

She raised an eyebrow. "They were always signed 'Red'."

"And you never actually saw Astoria with anyone? Anyone at all?"

Pansy shook her head. "Astoria would take strange fire calls, leave early. Sometimes we'd get off work and have a drink, but nothing ever happened between us. She'd always leave and say she had somewhere to be before it got too late. I was _happy_ for you two," she explained, an almost desperate edge to her voice.

"Why did you request the weekend off the same weekend Astoria did?"

"I was visiting my grandmother in Germany. She's nearly eighty-five years old. You can ask my mother-she insisted on tagging along," she said dryly.

"One last thing," he started, leaning back in his chair. "How did you get around the Veritaserum?"

She laughed. "Dear old Dad. Taught me how to counteract the truth serum with a spell."

"Pansy, you stupid twat. It just made you seem guiltier," he said almost fondly. "Fine. You're free to go. And I'm sorry about all of this."

She stood up and hugged him. "Thank you, love. I shall be forever thankful." She walked towards the door to the cell and paused, looking back. "You owe me a shopping trip, though," she commented. "I want a new robe. And shoes. And I wouldn't mind a new hat."

He rolled his eyes. "Whatever you want, Pans."

She grinned. "You're lovely, Draco. I'll see you soon."

* * *

It was clear we were back to square one.

"Where else, exactly, do we look?" I asked. We were sitting at the Three Broomsticks, having a butterbeer at the bar. I was trying very hard not to be discouraged by the fact that _just_ when we had identified a culprit and was on the verge of curing Narcissa and Alex, all of our work had been shot to hell.

"Someone who could have framed her," he said, shrugging. "Katie must have noticed something odd; Pansy's house was broken into at some point."

"Katie just started up her new firm; she couldn't have seen anything because she wasn't there all that often," I countered.

"Yes, but…" He trailed off as his eyes darted to the left, clearly spotting someone behind me. "Ginny and Blaise! Fancy meeting you lot."

I turned around as Ginny and Blaise approached our table with clasped hands. Blaise was dressed in a sharp, pitch-black suit and Ginny was dressed in a knee-length flapper-style dress in a deep emerald green. Her red lips stretched wide as she hugged me. "We thought we'd come by for a drink. Would you like to join us?"

We had to accept. We flagged a waiter down and got a round of butterbeers, grabbing a table next to a window. It wasn't long before we were all laughing and reminiscing about our days in school.

"Do you remember," Blaise asked, his words slightly slurred, "when we first got completely knackered in our dormitory?"

"Fourth year," Draco sighed. "We had snuck in about ten bottles of firewhiskey from your father's liquor stash."

"It was the first time Pansy had ever gotten drunk," Blaise said with a faraway look in his face.

"Pansy turns into a bit of a stripper when she's drunk," Draco explained, pouring himself a bit more wine.

"Well?" Ginny demanded. "Does Pansy have a nice body?"

We all stared at her, completely shocked.

"What?" she asked, shrugging. "I've always wondered."

We simultaneously burst into laughter. I held up my glass for a toast, and the clanking of wine glasses was heard across the bar. "Honestly, Ginny, you're an inspiration to us all," I told her.

She smiled demurely into her glass. "I try, darling."

"Well, ladies?" asked Blaise. "Any wild stories about the Gryffindors?"

"Well, I'm sure Ginny has some," I said, giggling a little. I hadn't felt this good in _ages_. Somewhere, in the back of my mind, it registered that maybe we should have been a little more responsible, but I felt like I'd been working for eternity. It was nice to let loose a little.

"Of course!" Ginny exclaimed. She leaned forward, waving us in as if she had an important secret. "When I was in seventh year," she said dramatically, "Gryffindor had an enormous party. Drinking, experimentation…" she snuck a look at Blaise, who smiled at her coyly. "The works. And we invited _everyone_."

"I heard about that!" I said. It was strange to think I'd been in Healer training at the time. "You got boys from Durmstrang and girls from Beauxbatons to show up, yeah?"

"Oh, yes," she replied. "And I made a lot of discoveries about the French that night."

"Ah, French girls," Draco sighed. "You know, I lived in France for a year."

I laughed along with the others.

"Excuse me," someone said behind me. I turned around to see a waiter, and was shocked to notice that we were the only ones in the Three Broomsticks. "We're closing up for the night."

"Have we really been here that long?" I asked, trying to focus. I cast a quick Tempus charm, nearly dropping my glass when I saw the time. "It's nearly one in the morning!"

Blaise exhaled. "Well, I suppose we'd better head out."

"We should do this again sometime," Ginny commented as we headed out the door. "Honestly, Hermione, it's especially fun to get drunk with you."

I put my hand on my chest, feeling strangely touched. It might have been because of the alcohol. "I could say the exact same thing about you."

"Well, I guess we'll be going. Blaise has an early morning." She kissed me on the cheek, her red lips probably staining my skin. "Goodnight, love."

Draco pulled me in the opposite direction. We linked arms as we walked down the street, the lanterns casting a dull light. He commented that we should probably catch the Knight Bus, considering neither of us was sober enough to apparate. I agreed, and we walked in silence until I decided to break it with one remark.

"You know," I said, tilting my head towards his, "when I was younger I used to study Muggle Psychology."

"Why on _earth _would you do that?" he asked lazily.

"Well," I replied, shrugging, "I always wondered how they thought the human brain operated. They seem to always explain away behavior and apply theories to large masses of people."

"Interesting," he drawled, making it clear he thought it was anything but.

"They also explained people like you," I continued.

"People like me?" he asked.

"Natural deception experts," I replied slowly, making sure I got every syllable right under the haze of wine.

"You mean people who can tell when others are lying?" he clarified, looking at me as if I was crazy.

"Exactly!" I said, laughing. "They say that natural deception experts lived with a pathological liar or a sociopath as a child."

He let go of my arm and turned to me. We were at the Knight Bus stop. "Hermione, you shouldn't ask about things you know nothing about."

"I'm only curious!" I protested.

He smiled bitterly. "Did you ever know anyone who was a Death Eater, Hermione?"

The grin dropped off of my face. "No," I replied quietly. He wouldn't let go of my gaze.

"When I was sixteen," he started, taking my hand and playing with my fingers, "my father told me that we were going home to have dinner with Blaise and Pansy. To celebrate my homecoming from Hogwarts." His voice was flat and emotionless, and he wasn't looking at me anymore. "I was ecstatic. My father hadn't spoken to me like I was his son in years."

I stayed quiet, unwilling to interrupt.

He cleared his throat. "When we arrived at the Manor, another wizard in a silver mask had me under an _Imperius_ within the moment I walked through the front door." The wind whipped around us, but I could hardly register it. "I was branded like cattle that night."

I swallowed.

"After the ink dried and the pain from all of those _Crucios_ wore off, I promised myself I would never let anyone lie to me again. And I didn't."

The Knight Bus arrived at the stop, and the driver leaned out to yell at us to get in.

His face was close to mine, close enough to feel his cool breath on my lips. "I think I'll walk the rest of the way," he whispered. "Goodnight, love."

And then he was gone. The doors to the bus closed in front of me, and I stood frozen in place as I felt the bus dart away.


	11. Chapter 11

**Hi!**

**So, I usually hate author's notes, but I really want to thank all of the people who keep reading this crazy story. I know the updates are sporadic, and I should be keeping on a stricter schedule, but oh well. I was never that great at keeping on a schedule. **

* * *

_Breaking News: Lucius Malfoy receives five years house arrest without magic for his war crimes. Lucius Malfoy, charged with multiple accounts of torture, claims his involvement was entirely under the Imperius curse. Wife Narcissa declined comment. _

_Son Draco Malfoy, recently cleared of all charges against him, commented that "I'm not surprised the Wizengamot let him off so easily. Their pockets are too full for them to come up with an actual punishment."_

_When asked if he was accusing his father and the Wizengamot of bribery, he declined to comment. _

* * *

I decided it was time for Harry and Draco to bury the hatchet.

They had consistently refused to look or speak to each other about anything besides the case. Clearly Draco had forgiven me (which I was still mystified by) but he hadn't forgiven Harry. And it wasn't as if Harry was trying very hard to put the past behind him, either. So I came up with an idea that would probably give me a lot of grief, but at this point I was desperate.

I summoned their wands and locked them in the interrogation room.

They immediately turned around and started shouting at me to let them out, but I only cast a volume charm on my voice and said, "Until you learn to work out your differences, I'm keeping you in here."

"Or we could just knock down the door," Harry muttered.

"Good luck with that," I said lightly, leaning back in my chair. "The door is as strong as steel. Now, I suggest you start talking."

I waited. They still refused to speak to each other, folding their arms and looking away.

"I'll start," I said. "Harry, why don't you tell Draco why you were so awful to him that day in the hospital?"

"I wasn't _awful_ to him," he protested.

"No, you were just being the same arse you've always been," Draco replied, shrugging. "I really shouldn't have been surprised."

"_I'm _the arse?" Harry asked. "You started it."

"How? By existing?"

"You're the one who paid my best friend to let my fiancée die!"

"Are you really _that_ much of an imbecile?" Draco asked disbelievingly. "I paid her to help my mother, not to abandon Alex! I knew she was going to help both of them!"

"You _should_ have let her focus on Alex."

"And let my mother die? Do you realize how incredibly selfish you sound?"

"That's rich, coming from you."

"It's funny how I'm supposed to be the selfish one, and you expect everyone to bow at your feet."

Harry laughed sardonically. "Fuck off, Malfoy. I don't have to listen to this."

I cleared my throat. "Actually, you do."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Listen, Granger, this isn't going to happen. Why don't you just let us out, and we can do actual work?"

"Or," I said, as if I was contemplating something, "I could just leave you two here and do work on my own. Which is what I'm going to do if you two don't work it out in about five minutes."

"Well, Potter, why don't you just apologize and we can get this over with?" Draco asked, finally looking at him.

"Why do I need to apologize?"

"It's incredible that you're asking that. Why can't you just be mature for once and apologize for being an arse?"

"I never asked you to apologize for being an arse for eight _years_," Harry pointed out.

"But I _did_. And it wasn't as if you were any better."

"Fine. I'm sorry for what I said in the hospital," he said, holding out his hand. "Mates?"

Draco reached out and shook his hand. "You pull that kind of shit again and I'll punch you instead of shaking your hand. Agreed?"

Harry laughed. "Agreed."

I spelled the door unlocked. "Great, now that that's settled, we can actually get to work."

* * *

We received notice that Alex was awake and asking for us, so we apparated to the hospital, completely baffled as to why she had asked for us. Most of the time, she was delusional; she could recognize faces and voices, but her memory went in and out. The Healers also told me that she was in a ton of pain, and her heart was getting weaker and weaker. They warned us not to tell her any shocking news, because her health was fragile enough as it is.

Apparently today was one of her more coherent days, because she was sitting up in her hospital bed, squinting at us as we entered her room. "Draco and Hermione," she said quietly. "I feel like I've been in here for years."

I sat down next to her, grabbing her hand in mine. "Don't worry, Alex. You won't be in here much longer."

"I'm going to die, Hermione," she told me, looking straight into my eyes. "My heart is going to give out before you'll be able to find the cure. When they told me what was wrong we knew what was going to happen."

"Alex," I said fiercely, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes, "I'm not going to let you die."

"You don't have a choice," she replied softly. "I might have a couple of days if I'm lucky. You know that."

"Well, then, it's going to be a miracle."

"I called you in here because I knew I'd only have a little time before I drifted out of sanity," she insisted. "And I wanted you to know that it won't be your fault if I die in here, because you tried so hard to save me."

"It doesn't matter if I try. Only if I succeed," I said stubbornly.

"I just don't want you to look back on this and think about what you could have done, Hermione."

I stood up, grabbing my coat. "I won't have to look back on anything if I get the cure."

She refused to look at me, keeping her head down. "Come on, Draco," I said. "We're going to the Manor."

The first thing I did when we got back to the Manor was grab a vase off of a nightstand and throw it at the wall.

Red tinged the edges of my vision and my body felt as if I could run a marathon. I was just so _angry_. Angry at Alex for giving up. Angry at Draco for being stupidly attractive and compelling. Angry at Harry for blaming Draco and me for Alex's health. And, most of all, angry at myself for _failing_ time and time again. Two lives were on the line, and I still couldn't do anything right.

Another vase was the next victim, and then a lamp, and then a wineglass. Watching them shatter on the wall was somehow satisfying. It was true that breaking things was more fun than building them up.

"You know," Draco commented, casually leaning against the door frame, "I will have to replace those."

"Take it out of my paycheck," I said sarcastically, and threw a particularly ugly glass figurine.

"Watching them thrown onto my wall makes me realize how unattractive they were," he noted. "I never got rid of them because my mother loves that lamp and the vases were family heirlooms."

I somehow registered that _family heirlooms_ meant they were probably priceless, but I couldn't even bother to care. "Shouldn't you be checking on Narcissa?"

"Tell me what this is about," he said flatly.

"Alex is _not _going to die," I told him, opting to conjure a glass vase and throw it against the wall. "I'm not going to let her die."

"I know you're not."

"No one believes I can do it, but I _can_."

I couldn't hold it in anymore. I sank down onto the floor, holding my face in my hands as I cried. I hadn't cried in years. Not since Ron had walked out of my life, leaving my heart in pieces. It felt as if a dam had opened up to my grief. I'd lost so many people in my life. During the war I'd promised myself I would never break down, because I had to keep going. Keep moving. But this was another war altogether.

He had his arms around me, his scent surrounding me as I let it all out. I'd never pictured Draco as a touchy-feely person; in fact, I figured he'd rather _Stupefy _himself than try to comfort me. But I let him. The embrace was a bit stiff and uncomfortable, but I didn't expect much from a Malfoy. As my sobs subsided, I finally met his stormy grey eyes. And then I knew. It astonished me, how far we've come in the last few months. Months ago, he was still a lousy little ferret. But here we were. That same ferret was now gently wiping away my tears and brushing his lips against mine.

* * *

I decided to put Isabella Hanover and Paige Vallis in the same room together, trying to nail out which one of them had the greater likelihood of going after Draco. I figured they could also have been working together on this, considering Isabella had claimed they were such good friends.

"I'm going to ask you again," I said slowly. "I know you two saw the notes that Astoria had on her desk."

"Yes," Isabella repeated, just as slowly. "But that's not a question."

"Pansy claimed one of them set a meeting place. And you two say you saw the same. _Where_ was the meeting place?"

"I can't remember," Isabella said, narrowing her eyes at me. I wondered if Draco would be able to tell if she was lying if he was here.

"Neither can I," Paige added, folding her arms. "And you really think we killed her?"

Astoria had been pronounced missing three hours ago by the Aurors. She'd been gone from her apartment in London for over three days, and according to her friends, she wasn't answering any firecalls and hadn't been spotted anywhere in the city. I had no doubt this had something to do with the woman she'd had an affair with. Astoria was most likely a liability to the killer.

"There's no evidence that she was murdered. I just need to know where she would go," I explained.

"How do you know she went with that woman? She could just be taking a vacation," Paige pointed out.

"Well, it's our only lead," I said stubbornly, but the truth was that it was just a gut feeling. If I found Astoria, I could find the killer. "You two are lying. So just tell me what the location was and I can find her."

"We already told you-"

"I can keep you here as long as I want," I said, straightening up. "So we're going to be here as long as I like. And I am very patient."

Paige exhaled. "There was never an actual address on the notes."

I tilted my head. What was that supposed to mean? "Then what was it?"

She shook her head. "All it said was 'let's meet in the place where love and loss collide'."

I almost laughed. It sounded like something out of a badly written romance novel. "Well, that certainly doesn't help me."

"Those notes were ridiculous, and we all know it. Whoever had an affair with Draco's vapid ex wanted her for her money," Isabella said.

"What do you have against Astoria, Ms. Hanover? Are you jealous?" I asked, unable to resist. My mood was strangely giddy, and I felt like bouncing off the walls.

"Of Astoria? Of course not. He never cared for her in the first place." Her eyes locked onto mine. "Draco tends to get into relationships he lives to regret."

"Well, I can think of a _few_ examples," I emphasized, smirking. Her teeth audibly clicked together, and I felt her glare as I turned to Paige. "Do you remember anything else about Astoria that would help me find her? Did she say somewhere she wanted to go, someone she wanted to go with?"

"I didn't know her all that well," Paige said, maintaining eye contact. "I'm sorry, but I can't help you."

And there it was: I had nothing. I was at a dead end.

Harry, luckily, was there to investigate Astoria's disappearance. He was just as convinced her location was the key to finding the killer, which made me feel much less crazy. It was true that the notes were our only lead; Astoria hadn't taken anything with her, hadn't left a note, and hadn't told any of her friends where she had gone. It pretty much screamed of a kidnapping.

Draco joined us about twenty minutes later. He had stayed home because Narcissa had been having another one of her episodes. He suggested we start at one of Astoria's favorite places to get away: the London Magical Library. Draco agreed to stay at the Department, and Harry and I apparated to the library.

The second we walked in the door, an older woman came running. "I was about to call the Aurors," she panted. "The woman they pronounced missing… she's here."

She was right. Astoria was half-lying on a table, pulling her head up when I shook her shoulder. When I saw her face, I gasped. There was a trickle of blood coming from her nose, and her eyes wouldn't focus on me.

"She told me I had to drink it," she whispered, her voice scratchy and almost inaudible.

"Astoria? Astoria, listen to me," I said, grabbing her face and turning it to mine. "Who did this to you?"

But it was too late. Her eyes slid shut, and her body fell limp.

* * *

The Aurors had taken Astoria's body to the Department for processing. They were going to call her family and ask them to identify her, but we all knew that someone had killed her. It was no use. The murderer was eliminating every lead, every chance we had to save Alex and Narcissa.

I decided to head back to my flat. The rain beat down on my head as I shook out my umbrella before turning to my porch. To my surprise, Ginny was sitting on it, staring at the ground as if the meaning of life was written on it.

"Ginny," I said, shocked. "What are you doing here?"

She closed her eyes and exhaled, standing up. When she opened her eyes, I could see she'd been crying. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a little vial filled with deep purple liquid, rolling it around in her fingers.

"What's that?" I asked, interested. Obviously it was a potion, but why did she seem so sober about it?

"It's an antidote."

I cocked my head to the side. "To what?"

"To the poison I gave Alex," she said, locking her eyes onto mine.


	12. Chapter 12

**Hello!**

**So, I really hate to do this, but I am asking that you guys please review. It would make my day. And I appreciate all feedback. Thanks!**

-Interlude: Four Years Ago-

"_I was thinking white hydrangeas," I told her. "Ron and I visited a gorgeous park last week and when I saw these… well, I couldn't imagine any other flower at my wedding."_

_Cora, our wedding planner, grinned from ear to ear. "I simply love it! White hydrangeas make for a picture of elegance. Have you purchased your wedding robes yet?"_

"_Actually, I've decided to wear a muggle wedding dress," I confessed, blushing as I remembered Ron telling me he thought I'd look beautiful in a white dress. _

_She nodded. "Of course. Don't worry, I'll make it the wedding you've always dreamed of."_

"_I just want it to be… simple. Simple, yet lovely."_

"_Hermione," she said firmly, folding her hands and resting her forearms on the desk in front of her, "All you have to do is trust me, and this wedding will be perfect. You deserve it. Now," she started, a mischievous look in her eyes. "Where are you two going for your honeymoon?"_

_I shrugged. I simply couldn't stop smiling. I was about to marry the love of my life. Who cared where we were going for the honeymoon? "Ron is planning the honeymoon and I'm planning the wedding. It's going to be a surprise."_

"_How romantic," she sighed. "Well, we'll get to cake tastings next week, yes?"_

_I laughed. "Looking forward to it."I glanced at my watch. "So sorry, Cora, but my shift starts in a half hour."_

_We agreed to meet soon. I was in the mood to walk to the hospital, so I came out of Cora's office with a skip in my step. With the sun shining pleasantly on my face, I couldn't help but grin at everyone around me. _

_Suddenly, a man appeared in front of me, waving a newspaper in my face. "Would you like to purchase the new issue of the Daily Prophet?"_

"_No thank you," I said firmly, trying to dodge out of his way. _

_He refused to budge. "It's breaking news. Auror Ron Weasley cheats on Hermione Granger with mystery woman!"_

_I froze, taking off my giant sunglasses. His mouth dropped open when he recognized me. "Oh, so sorry, Ms. Granger…"_

_I reached into my pocket, pulling out a few galleons. "Keep the change," I told him, grabbing the paper out of his hand. _

_There was no mistaking it. The moving picture showed Ron's face splitting into a grin as a woman with long black hair raced up to him, jumping into his arms as he spun her around and touched his lips to hers. I realized numbly that I couldn't recognize her, and my mind whirled as I wondered who this woman was. _

_As the confusion dissipated, it was slowly replaced with something completely foreign to me: something cold and cruel and all-encompassing. _

_I apparated to the Auror Department, pushing through the hordes of people that were in my way. Eventually they started to make a path for me, although some tried to catch my attention. Harry worriedly called out my name as I breezed past him, but I could hardly register it enough to answer. I squeezed the newpaper in my hand as I made my way to his office, blowing my way through the door. _

_I slammed the paper down on his desk. "I suppose this is your way of telling me you want to call off the wedding."_

_He looked up from his sandwich, his eyes widening as he looked down at the picture. I saw a flicker of shame on his face as he swallowed his fear, and somehow, that made me even angrier. _

"_Who is she?" I asked softly, staying close to the door._

_He bit his lip, but didn't answer. _

"_Who the _fuck_ is she?" I spat. _

"_Her name is Cerina Prewett," he said quietly, standing up. _

"_And when did you start seeing her?"_

"_I met her a year ago."_

_I smiled bitterly. "So, around the time you proposed to me, you decided to date this woman?"_

_His silence was answer enough. My fists balled at my sides as I resisted the urge to hex him. "Do you love her, Ronald?"_

"_Yes," he replied, not a trace of regret in his voice. _

"_And when, exactly, did you fall out of love with me?" I demanded. _

"_I _never _did," he told me, coming closer. "I was the happiest I'd ever been the day you agreed to marry me! I love you!"_

_I felt a tear sliding down my cheek, and I didn't bother to wipe it away. "How could you do this to me, then? You say you love me, and you sleep with another woman? It's FOUR MONTHS BEFORE OUR WEDDING!"_

"_I never_ _slept with her!" he shouted. "I would never betray you like that."_

"_You don't have to sleep with her to cheat on me!" I shrieked back. When he put his hand on my shoulder, I glared at him. "Touch me again and you won't have any fingers to touch her with."_

_His hand dropped to his side. "I never meant to hurt you."_

"_What did you think was going to happen, Ronald?" I disputed.  
_

"_It's possible to be in love with two people at the same time," he said, his voice now quiet and sober. _

"_I understand," I said, matching his tone. "You thought you could keep both of us." I paused, my heart in my throat. "You wanted to keep both of us."_

"_Mione…"_

"_Here's what's going to happen," I said flatly, looking him in the eye. "My shift ends at nine. You're going to get the _fuck _out of my flat. If any of your things are still there by the time I get home, I'm selling them and donating the money to charity. And then you are never going to contact me again." I breathed through my nose, feeling nothing but disgust for the man in front of me. "I'm never going to have to see you again. I'm going to call off the wedding, and you're going to explain to your family and all of your friends why they don't have to come."_

"_I'm sorry."_

"_Your apologies mean nothing to me," I spat at the bastard, the scorn transparent in my voice. "Now get the fuck out of my life for good."_

"_Fine," he told me quietly, his eyes heavy with sadness. I couldn't gather any sort of sympathy for him. "Fine, I will."_

* * *

"Ginny," I said slowly, eying the vial in her hands. "What are you talking about?"

"The poison is colorless. I slipped it into her drink when she met me for lunch," she said expressionlessly.

"What do you have against Alex?" I asked, completely baffled. Frantically, I remembered our last encounter, when she'd taken care of Narcissa. I'd placed Narcissa's life in the hands of the girl that was now telling me she was guilty of attempted murder? This couldn't be real. Just when I was about to give up, _Ginny _had appeared on my porch to solve my problems. There _had _to be a catch.

"Have you ever had something just in your reach, and had it snatched away from you?" she asked, a faraway gleam in her eyes. "That was my life with Harry. I had everything. I was happy with him. My years with him were the best years of my life.

"But every good thing has to come to an end. My time with Harry ended, and he found someone new. Someone who, apparently, was good enough to marry him. Someone who was beautiful, and poised, and elegant. Not to mention a genius," she sighed. And then a sadistic smile spread across her face. "And it was incredibly satisfying to watch her fall to the ground at my own party. I knew you'd have no hope of saving her, no matter how many books you read." She laughed. "Although it was fun to watch you try."

"You're married."

"Blaise supported me. But I couldn't love him, and I married him because I knew he could give me the comfort and financial support I needed. He couldn't have meant anything to me more than money." She paused, playing with the vial in her hands again. "I know that I never thought of myself as particularly empathetic, but I never thought of myself as selfish. It was just that someone had to suffer for me to be happier." Her eyes contradicted her words: they reflected no remorse and no regard towards the lives she'd almost ruined.

It was as if I was hearing her through a daze-everything she said was far away and unclear. We'd gone to school together. She'd had a silly crush on one of my best friends. There were countless times we'd gone shopping, out for drinks. I'd been a bridesmaid at her wedding. This simply couldn't be happening.

She kept her eyes on me. "Pay attention, darling, or I'll think about drinking the antidote myself. And trust me, there is not a replacement."

I forced myself to snap out of it. "Why, exactly, are you giving me the antidote at all, then?"

She shrugged. "I wanted him to suffer, and I got what I wanted."

I held out my hand. "Then give me the antidote."

She shook her head. "I want a guarantee that I won't get any Auror action against me for this. You only get the antidote if I get an Unbreakable Vow."

"Forget it," I scoffed.

She raised an eyebrow. "I believe I have the upper hand in this situation, Hermione. I don't care if she dies."

"You get her the antidote first, and then I will make the vow," I said firmly.

She rolled her eyes. "Deal."

I grabbed her arm and did Side-Along before she could do anything I didn't expect. I wouldn't let go of her arm as we walked up to Alex's room. I had absolutely no intention of taking the Vow. Ginny was going to Azkaban if I had to drag her there myself.

"Let go of me," she seethed.

"Give me the antidote."

In the middle of the hallway, she twisted out of my grip. She placed the antidote in my hand, smirking.

"Tell me how you made it," I said suspiciously, eying the vial.

She blinked, tilting her head to the side. "What?"

"Tell me how you made the posion," I insisted.

"I didn't make it."

My jaw dropped a little. She _had_ to be lying. There was no way she could have the antidote if she didn't make it. "Excuse me?"

And I saw it coming a split second before it did.

A nurse pulled her wand out of her sleeve, pointing it directly at Ginny. Ginny's back was turned to her, so she couldn't have possibly seen the attacker. But before I could grab her and pull her out of the way, the nurse had muttered a quick curse and green light shot out of her wand aimed at Ginny. She fell to the ground, the light quickly fading from her eyes.

The nurse apparated away a second later, leaving me alone with her body. The vial rolled out to touch my foot, and I bent to pick it up.

This day was just getting more and more complicated.

* * *

"You're saying no one knew who the nurse was?" Harry demanded of the secretary at the front desk.

The nurse, who looked positively terrified of him, shook her head slowly. I couldn't blame her. Harry was leaning over the counter, fists balled, looking about ready to hex anyone that crossed his path.

"I can't believe I didn't see this," he said disbelievingly, and then shouted, "I can't BELIEVE SHE HAD ME FOOLED!"

"Harry..." I said hesitantly.

"You don't get it!" he bellowed. "Alex was about to DIE, and Ginny was just THROWING PARTIES AND DRINKING COCKTAILS RIGHT UNDER MY NOSE?"

I didn't respond as he turned around and started pacing explosively, running his hands through his hair.

Draco went to stand next to me, folding his arms. "I see he's at the anger stage."

"HOW CAN YOU BE SO CALM?" Harry barked at him.

"You think I'm calm?" asked Draco, his eyes flashing. "I'm furious. I wish I could bring the whore back to life just so I could kill her all the more painfully. But I feel no need to take it out on the people around me!" he said, his fury finally leaking into his voice.

Harry opened his mouth to say something, and then closed it, closing his eyes and shaking his head. "You're right. I'm sorry," he said, turning his head towards me.

I only nodded in response and made an effort to change the subject. "She claimed she didn't make the potion."

"What?" Harry asked, leaning forward. "Wait, if she didn't make the poison that means she didn't cast the curse."

"She's lying," Draco said dismissively, leaning back. "What we need to worry about is how we're going to tell Blaise."

That immediately silenced us. I had no idea how we were going to break it to Blaise. How do you tell a man that his wife was not only an evil bitch, but also murdered by a nurse in a hospital? "Is there any gentle way of telling him what happened?"

"No," Draco said frankly. "There's only one way for that to happen."

"Let's just try not to insult her," Harry said.

"Well…" Draco hedged. "_That's _going to be rather difficult."

"Fine. Let's just try to be as least offensive as possible. Yeah?"

We nodded, agreeing. I certainly wasn't going to go about this alone, not after I'd broken the news to Draco about his father. I wasn't going to go through it again.

A man popped his head through the door. "You requested a magical signature test for the victim, correct?"

"Yes," Harry said. He beckoned us in, and we followed him in the door. He performed a quick spell, and we watched as her wand lit up. A dark blue violet formed in front of us, emitting little trails of light.

"The signature doesn't match," I said hollowly. This wasn't happening.

"Someone else cast the curse and made the poison," Harry followed, stating the obvious.

"Well," Draco replied, reaching into his pocket and lighting up a cigarette. "We're screwed."


	13. Chapter 13

_In memory of Lucius Malfoy, valued member of the High Society of Business Leaders of Britain_

_Poem chosen by Narcissa Malfoy_

_hate blows a bubble of despair into  
hugeness world system universe and bang  
-fear buries a tomorrow under woe  
and up comes yesterday most green and young_

_pleasure and pain are merely surfaces  
(one itself showing, itself hiding one)  
life's only and true value neither is  
love makes the little thickness of the coin_

_comes here a man would have from madame death  
nevertheless now and without winter spring?  
she'll spin that spirit her own fingers with  
and give him nothing (if he should not sing)_

_how much more than enough for both of us  
darling. And if i sing you are my voice_

_-E. E Cummings, Magical Poet of the Fifth Order_

* * *

Alex was awake the next morning.

The antidote reversed the effects of the poison completely, with no lasting damage to her internal organs. She hugged me the second I walked into her room, squeezing me until I thought my lungs would burst. "Thank you so much," she whispered. I almost commented that I hardly did anything to _get _the cure, but I don't think I could have taken in enough air to speak.

She finally let go and took a deep breath, standing up. "Well, I've got a lot of work to catch up on."

I laughed. She gets cured of a life-threatening poison and all she can think about is her college credits. "Well, I'm glad you're back, Alex."

She grinned. "Now I can start planning my wedding again." She turned to Draco, who was right behind her. "It's nice to see you again."

He smirked. "Nice to see you too."

Her hand flicked out and smacked him in the back of the head. "What was that for?" he demanded, rubbing the spot and looking mildly frightened of her.

"That ridiculous fight with Harry," she responded neutrally.

"Why am I in trouble for that and he isn't?"

"Oh, don't worry," she replied, glancing at Harry. He ducked his head immediately, looking scared. "Harry's in just as much trouble. Expect a _lengthy_ apology later."

Draco smiled when he saw Harry hadn't escaped any shit from Alex. She grinned, wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug. "Thank you for doing so much for me," she said.

"Harry would lose his own head if you weren't around," he responded, looking distinctly uncomfortable in the hug, but had obviously decided to humor her. "I couldn't allow that to happen."

"Sure, Draco," she said sarcastically. "Whatever the reason, you're an amazing friend." She waited, and cleared her throat expectantly.

"And thank you for saving my fiancée," Harry added, clearly for Alex's benefit.

She grinned smugly as she grabbed his hand and left the room, waving her hand.

"It's nice to see her up and attached to Harry's side again," Draco commented.

"Yeah," I sighed. "It really, really is."

"Hopefully I don't ever have to come back here," he said, looking around at the hospital walls.

I rolled my eyes. "That's rather dramatic, isn't it? I work here every day."

"And it's a perfectly respectable plebian profession," he finished, smirking. "Speaking of work, we have to go back to the Auror Department. They have a few suspects they want us to interview about Ginny."

I rubbed my eyes tiredly. "Fine. It never ends, does it?"

His only response was to turn and walk out of the room. I had no choice but to follow him.

* * *

John's face paled when he saw me open the door into his office. I raised my eyebrows, figuring I shouldn't have been surprised that Harry's partner was there instead. John was curiously frightened by my presence, although I could never understand why. What did he have to be so worried about? He had _asked_ me to be here, after all. "Hermione," he stuttered, nervously shuffling papers together.

"Yes?" I asked expectantly.

"I actually think Mr. Malfoy and I can handle this by ourselves. So if you want to go home and take a break…"

"Just tell me what's going on, John. I'll find out eventually," I said, bored.

He took a deep breath. "Ron Weasley is here."

All the oxygen sucked out of my lungs. I hadn't seen Ron in four years. He'd moved to Scotland after I told him to get the hell out of my life and never come back. I had no idea if he'd married Cerina Prewett or not, or if he had children, or if he was still an Auror…

"George, Arthur, and Bill are all planning the funeral, so we only have Ron and Molly," he rambled. "You really don't have to do this," he continued, and I snapped out of it as I heard his panicked voice. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Draco turn to me, curious. I ignored him.

"I'm fine. I'm perfectly capable of keeping my composure around him," I told them, the lie transparent in my voice. John cast a doubtful glance towards Draco, but I only turned and walked out, intent on going to the interrogation room. I wasn't going to let that git stop me.

It didn't seem as if he had changed much. He looked as young as he did on the day of that last battle, the day I'd first kissed him. His hair was cropped close to his face, and he was dressed in a long, pitch-black robe. His eyes widened when he saw me, but he cleared his throat quickly in attempt to break the silence. "Hello, Hermione."

"Ronald," I responded back cordially. Mrs. Weasley wouldn't look at me, instead keeping her eyes on the metal table in front of her. I turned my attention to her as she nervously twisted the necklace around her neck in her hand.

She was hiding something.

"Were you particularly close to Ginny?" I asked, speaking ambiguously to both of them.

I wasn't surprised when Ron jumped in immediately. "Of course. And she would never do anything like this! She was obviously Imperiused or something."

"That's what we're trying to figure out," I replied neutrally, folding my hands and leaning forward. "What was she like when she was younger?"

He looked taken aback at the question. "Well… she was innocent and naïve. Stubborn, good at school, liked to be around people…"

"I wasn't asking you, Ronald," I said, refusing to look at him, keeping my eyes on Mrs. Weasley. "I'd like to hear it from your mother."

She glanced up, startled. "I'm… sorry?"

"Was Ginny innocent and naïve and stubborn?" I asked, and I saw her flinch, a miniscule gesture that I knew I shouldn't have caught. But I had.

"So. You don't think she was innocent at all, do you, Mrs. Weasley?" I commented idly, raising an eyebrow.

"How _dare_ you? She was my daughter. She was sweet, kind, generous-everything you could want from a child!"

I tilted my head back, shaking my head. "If you're going to fake anger you might want to learn how to get your face to reflect it."

She swallowed, a flash of fear on her face. And I saw her eyes shift towards Ron before shifting back to the table in front of her. That's when I understood what needed to be done.

"We'll no longer be needing your testimony, Ronald," I commented, waving my fingers in a lazy goodbye.

"That's it?" he asked incredulously. His head snapped up as he walked towards the wall behind us. "He's behind here, isn't he? Malfoy?"

"Excuse me?" I responded, refusing to raise my voice. I was _not_ letting him get to me.

"I read the Daily Prophet. He's your new boyfriend, isn't he?" he demanded, and it was almost as if I was young again, listening to Ron's ridiculous tangents as I tried to calm him down.

"I hardly think my personal life is any of your business, especially since you're no longer a part of it," I replied serenely. "Now. Am I going to have to call a few Aurors to escort you out of the building?"

He glared at me. "I think I'm capable of escorting myself out," he spat, slamming the metal door behind him.

When we were alone, Mrs. Weasley's hand went up to fidget with her necklace again. I let the silence drag on. The more nervous she was, the more likely she'd be to…

"Well, aren't you going to say anything?"

Do _that._

So she _was_ afraid. Of what, I couldn't tell, but I hoped she'd tell me something now that Ron was gone. Maybe she wanted to protect him.

"Was she particularly empathetic?" I asked.

Her eyebrows drew together. "Well, I don't know."

"Did you think she was a good person?"

"She was my daughter. I loved her."

"I didn't ask if you loved her," I inserted firmly. "I _asked_ if you thought she was a good person." I only knew that these were the terms Mrs. Weasley thought in: good, evil, black, white.

Her eyes were back on the metal table, and that was answer enough.

"Did she visit all that often?" I asked, intrigued.

She shook her head. "I haven't seen her since Fred's funeral."

"Why Fred's funeral?"

A bitter smile crossed her face, all in passing reminiscence. "I was crying that day," she said softly. "I couldn't stop sobbing. The mood in the house was so sober. Ron wouldn't look at me, and George wouldn't speak to any of us. But Ginny…" she trailed off.

"Ginny?" I prompted.

"I asked her if she'd like to speak at the ceremony, say a few words about him. And she turned to me, her eyes like ice, so _cold_." Her eyes were far away in remembrance. "She told me…" she almost choked up, but held strong. "She told me that she was _glad_. Apparently she was worried she'd have to kill him herself."

I was struck speechless. I couldn't imagine anyone saying something like that, especially on the day of a funeral. Ginny had always been so charismatic and personable, so interesting and sophisticated. I remembered Fred's funeral, remembered Ginny sobbing into her handkerchief, telling story after story about him. She told about every time she missed him, every time she thought about what he would have done if he had been there.

So it was likely she hadn't been Imperiused. It was likely she was just as cold and cruel as she seemed the night before, telling me she couldn't have cared less if Alex died because of her.

"I told her to remove herself from my house and to not come back until she found some common decency," she continued. "And she never did."

"You didn't speak to her for a decade?"

"She wrote me letters once every few months," she said. "She told me of a friendship she made with the younger Mrs. Malfoy. I believe she only told me to make me angry."

"What did she say about her relationship with Astoria?" I asked. If some of those letters had evidence, than we could find out exactly what was going on. We could nail the poison maker.

She blushed. "She never wrote anything specific, but I understood what she meant. When she was sixteen, I caught her with a younger pureblood girl. When she sent me an invitation to her wedding, I couldn't go, knowing she'd break that Zabini boy's heart and use that Malfoy girl until she was tired of her."

So it was true. She'd had an affair with Astoria and obliviated her. She'd poisoned Alex, but she hadn't made the poison. Surely it couldn't have been a coincidence, the fact that the poison maker was the caster. Which meant she must have been working with someone all along. "Did she mention anyone else?"

She shook her head. I allowed her to go, wishing her condolences for her daughter. I knew it must have been hard, losing two of her children in her lifetime.

Draco, of course, had been watching the whole encounter, and agreed that Ginny had probably been working with someone else. When he decided to head back to check on Narcissa and I decided to go back to my flat, we began walking, enjoying the cold air against our cheeks. Our hands were in our pockets, and I almost considered grabbing his arm, like that day we'd gotten completely knackered at the Three Broomsticks.

"You seemed panicked when you were told Weasley was in the building," he mused eventually. "What happened between the two of you?"

"That is not your concern," I said immediately.

"I think you know by now I decide what is my _concern_," he insisted. "So. What happened between you and Weasley?"

I let out a long breath. "We had a rather nasty separation."

"I gathered that."

"It doesn't matter," I told him firmly.

"Of course it does. Did you break it off?"

I nodded, unwilling to say anymore. Of course Draco wouldn't let it go. "Did he cheat on you?"

"With a pureblood Ministry employee," I admitted, immediately horrified that I'd blurted that out.

"You would have broken it off eventually," he mused, slowing his pace down.

"It was four months before the wedding, Draco. I hardly think I would have found a reason to break it off."

"You would have figured out he didn't treat you properly," he continued as if I hadn't spoken.

"Really? And how is it that I should be treated?"

One second I was looking at him with my eyebrows raised, and the next I was pushed back onto the brick wall behind me. Every inch of my body was pressed against him as he kissed me, all lips and teeth and _scent_. I instantly curled one hand in his hair and the other around his neck, intent on getting as close as possible. It was an eternity later when he finally broke away, our ragged breathing filling the air around us.

"Like you're wanted," he said eventually. "Like you matter. Like you mean everything."

And it was after he apparated away when I remembered what question he was answering.


	14. Chapter 14

**Hello!**

**This one's going to be a tad bit short, but honestly I've been swamped due to studying for AP tests. So the next update won't be up for two weeks. **

**Thanks to all of you for reading and reviewing!**

-Interlude: Sixth Year-

_Blaise strolled into his dormitory, whistling idly as he dropped his bag on the couch in front of him. It was the first day after Christmas break, and he figured his other housemates would be back in the dorm soon for the welcome feast. _

"_Close the door," he heard Draco say, and he rolled his eyes as he obliged. He walked around the trunk to sit on his bed, and he startled as he saw him. _

_Draco had his shirt off, his back completely exposed to Blaise. He couldn't see where the burn originated, but it trailed up his back and to his neck, all red and raw and obviously had been bleeding. "Shit," Blaise said. _

"_Well, what are you waiting for?" Draco snapped. "It won't heal itself."_

"_Those are second degree burns, Draco."_

"_I don't give a fuck what kind of burns they are. Just heal them."_

_Blaise swallowed and pulled out his wand. He'd had lots of practice healing injuries, especially when Draco came back to school. "If you'd just let me take you to Madame Pomfrey…"_

"_No Healers," he said flatly. _

"_I've never healed second degree burns before."_

"_It's fine. I'm sure you won't screw up too badly."_

"_Mate…"_

"_No one else can see this," Draco interrupted. "It's visible from the neck. This can't be found out."_

"_Damn it," Blaise muttered. "I told you to spend Christmas with my family. I told you not to go back there, and you did, you stupid prat."_

"_I've had worse," he replied, his voice oddly dead. "And my father wouldn't have allowed it."_

"_Who gives a fuck what your father would have allowed?" Blaise demanded. "After everything that's happened to you-"_

"_I just want you to heal the burns. Alright?" he asked, scowling. _

_Blaise decided to let it go, considering arguing with Draco was like arguing with a brick wall. He murmured the necessary incantations and waved his arm across his back. "This could take an hour." _

"_It doesn't matter."_

"_Just don't touch it. Don't lie on your back. Let it heal."_

"_Right." He paused, pulling his shirt back over his head. "And, Blaise?"_

"_Yeah, mate?" _

"_Thanks," he said, and Blaise knew how hard it was for Draco to offer any sort of gratitude. _

"_Yes, well," he replied awkwardly. "Don't even think about ditching the feast again. You know how Snape gets when you 'opt out'."_

_Draco dismissed the issue with a wave of his hand. "Whatever, mate. It'll be fine."_

_Blaise rolled his eyes. "And don't try to speed up the process by coming up with some ridiculous healing spell. Trying to heal yourself always backfires."_

"_Just get out," Draco replied, exasperated. _

"_You're welcome, by the way." Blaise said sardonically, shaking his head. He was always cleaning up after Draco, and if he didn't know the whole story, he would have given up on him a long time ago. _

* * *

Without thinking, I followed him.

I apparated after him, refusing to allow him to leave me wanting more. He wasn't going to run away. I was sick of denying this, sick of pretending I couldn't feel anything for him. Because I _did._ In the span of less than two weeks, I'd only become more and more attracted to him.

I burst into the manor without thinking. He was in front of the fireplace, looking contemplatively into the fire, like it held all of life's secrets.

He looked shocked to see me, and he opened his mouth as if to speak, but all I could focus on were his _lips_. And without preamble, I pressed my mouth to his, wrapping my arms around him like I couldn't get enough. We ended up on the floor soon enough, the sound of our breathing filling the air around us.

When I broke away, he rested his forehead against mine. It was almost a wordless mutual decision to stop and talk, to remember, to be together as if we had something more than a tentative attraction between two former rivals.

His shirt had become unbuttoned, and I eased it off, resting my head on his chest. I picked up his arm, fixating on the dark, swirling lines of the Mark, wondering about how much pain he'd suffered through to have it.

At some point, he must have wanted it. Maybe not the day he'd gotten it, but he had to have wanted it before then for his father to arrange for it. His father must have _known_ he would want the Mark.

And I couldn't stop staring at it, couldn't help but wonder about all the things he must have done with that Mark branded on his arm, a silver mask on his face; a long, dark robe swirling after him.

His parents would have glorified the violence. They would have told him that purebloods should rule, that muggleborns were lowly creatures that didn't deserve to live. He would have believed it. I was saving a woman that would always consider me beneath her, and I was searching for the killer of a man who wouldn't have given it a second thought if my parents had been slaughtered by his leader.

But I believed Draco had changed.

The question remained, however, how _much_ he had changed.

I couldn't fall asleep in his arms. His breathing had evened out after we'd spent so long in front of the fire talking about anything _except _the war, except school, all with an undercurrent of uneasiness, of distrust. And I couldn't sleep. I went back to my own flat and thought about all the times he'd called me _mudblood_, the time I'd slapped him, the times he'd baited me and ridiculed me. I remembered all the reasons why I'd hated him for so long.

This had to be the last time. This was a recipe for disaster. The Mark on his arm was proof enough.

It had to end.

* * *

I didn't respond to his firecalls, or his owls. I didn't respond to anything at all. I worked on finding the countercurse to Narcissa's curse alone the next morning. Eventually, he stopped trying. Luckily, he didn't come to my flat. He must have known this couldn't last.

I looked into everything. I was more than convinced it had been Isabella Hanover, but I had no means to prove it. At this point, it had to be on instinct more than anything.

I considered giving up. After all, what could Draco Malfoy be to me? He was paying me to cure his mother, and that was what I'd been doing. I had no obligation to Narcissa other than the million galleons. I had saved my best friend; most of all, I _tried _to help Narcissa. But I was at a dead end. At this point, it was better to just tell him that his mother had no hope. It was over. Let him enjoy a few more days with her before her time withered away.

Yes, that was what I was going to do. I was going to ease up on the search, and let him get used to the idea that his mother likely wasn't going to make it.

And for once, I was going to _sleep_.

I had to accept that I couldn't save everyone.

* * *

The next morning, I received an owl from Katie Bell, inviting me to dine with her and Pansy. I readily agreed. Katie was an extraordinarily interesting person to be around, and while I was trying to avoid Draco, I had to find someone to distract me.

When I appeared on Katie's front porch, I was dressed in a knee-length black dress and a pair of my favorite earrings. Katie nonchalantly shouted for me to come in, and I let myself through the door. The scent of Italian food wafted in front of my nose, and I inhaled deeply.

"I'm making spaghetti, is that alright?" she asked loudly, washing her hands at the sink.

"It sounds delicious," I replied agreeably. "Where's Pansy?"

"Oh, I'm so sorry. She had to work late; it'll only be us tonight, I'm afraid."

I shrugged. It was probably for the best; Pansy was likely harboring some resentment against me after I'd accused her of being a murderer. "That's great."

"The spaghetti will be ready in a moment. Why don't you grab a seat?"

I sat at her kitchen counter. "I haven't eaten anything all day; if you hadn't owled me, I probably would have ordered takeout."

"Well, then I'm delighted I could give you some decent food," she said lightly. Within minutes, she had the plate of spaghetti in front of me. "Enjoy."

I dug in immediately, probably looking like a Neanderthal next to her as she was daintily sipping from her glass of wine. "So," she asked, smiling pleasantly. "How's the search going?"

Shit. "I'm not sure I'm getting anywhere," I admitted.

"Really?" she queried, her eyebrows pulling together. "I'm so sorry to hear that. So you've got no leads?"

I shook my head. "Can we talk about something else?" I almost begged. This was the reason I'd come here in the first place: to escape this kind of subject.

She held her hands up in surrender. "I'm sorry, love. Shouldn't have mentioned it. So," she continued, smiling deviously. "I noticed there's something between you and Draco, yeah?"

"There's nothing between me and Draco," I said, too quickly.

"Have you shagged him?"

I nearly spit out my drink. "What? Of course not! Why would you ask something like that?"

She shrugged. "Sorry, but I was curious. He is rather good-looking."

I rolled my eyes. "I can't deny he is marginally attractive."

"Marginally attractive? That man is gorgeous, and you know it."

"Okay, he's gorgeous. But I can't start anything with him."

"It's the fact that he's a Death Eater, isn't he?"

_Former_, I almost defended him, but I bit my lip. At some level, she was right. "Well… yes."

She shrugged. "I can't say I blame you."

I didn't comment; instead, I placed my fork on the table in front of me. "Do you have a napkin?"

"Oh, they're in the pantry. First door on the left down the hallway."

I nodded, following her advice. But I was immediately distracted by the decoration on the walls of the hallway. There was picture after picture of her and Pansy, arms wrapped around each other, smiling lovingly. There were a few of old relatives who were obviously not as pleasant as she, glaring at the camera in distaste.

And at the end of the wall, there was a framed artifact. The necklace hung inside the black frame. It sent a jolt of déjà vu through my mind. I'd seen this necklace before, but it must have been only a glimpse, because I just couldn't remember where it was from.

"It's a pretty necklace, isn't it?" she asked, and I jumped.

"Yes," I said, a little embarrassed I'd been caught staring at her pictures. "Is it a family heirloom?"

"I'm not sure," she replied contemplatively. "Definitely not from my family."

Her comment only made me more confused.

"It's the necklace that Draco Malfoy cursed me with in sixth year," she said calmly. "I like to keep it here to remember."

I was starting to feel a little uneasy, so I stepped back the tiniest bit. "Well, that's… interesting."

"You know, I thought you would have figured it out by now, but I suppose you aren't half as clever as everyone thinks," she sighed.

She had her wand pointed at me, a few inches away from my forehead. "Terribly sorry for lying to get you here, darling. But I needed a little bait for our lovely blonde coward."

And as she said the spell, firmly, I felt my body go limp as I fell to the ground, my eyes closing as I felt the world around me slip away.


	15. Chapter 15

**Hi folks!**

**Wow, I think it has been two weeks since I've updated. So sorry for the delay; AP testing caught up with me. So, thanks for the patience.**

**Reviews make the sun shine brighter. **

* * *

-Sixth Year-

_The Slytherin common room was in chaos. _

_Loud, booming music filled the room around them. Some students were in the corners, snogging the life out of their romantic partners. Some were dancing wildly on top of the furniture. Some were laughing hysterically with bottles of firewhiskey and wine in their hands._

_Pansy was experienced in this sort of thing; she'd probably cast a very powerful silencing charm around the dungeons. Snape had ignored these gatherings before; Blaise never understood why. _

_Blaise felt a hand on his shoulder as it slid down to his chest. He turned around, startled. "Blaise!" a seventh-year Ravenclaw slurred, nearly falling over herself. "Do you want to get out of here? Go somewhere a little… quieter?" _

_He shook her hand off, pushing his way through the crowd. He was surprised she'd invited anyone from the other houses. He was even more surprised none of the other teachers had noticed. _

"_Pansy!" he shouted over the music. _

_She was running her fingers through her hair as she sat close with another Slytherin boy. Her head turned towards Blaise as a grin broke out across her face. "Darling!" she trilled. She stumbled a little as she pulled herself up off of the couch. "Where have you been? The party has been going on for hours!" _

_He watched the Slytherin boy's eyes trail down to her arse behind her. He couldn't believe this. He caught Pansy snogging Hannah Abbot in their dorm last week and made her explain everything. _

_He stared at her. "Studying. Our N.E.W.T's are in two weeks, Pansy."_

_She rolled her eyes. "Who knows if those silly little tests are going to matter next year, anyway? Let's just enjoy ourselves!"_

_And that was when she noticed the fear in her eyes. They were bloodshot and nervous, darting behind him as if she was afraid someone was watching them. _

"_Pansy…"_

"_Besides, I threw this lovely gathering for Draco. Look how much fun he's having!"_

_Blaise suddenly noticed Draco down a shot of alcohol, smirking as a girl started kissing his neck. He guessed it wasn't his first._

"_What the fuck are you thinking? You think getting him drunk is going to help anything?" Blaise demanded angrily. _

_Pansy raised an eyebrow. "Well, yes. What better way to make him feel better than with alcohol?" She laughed. "You need to loosen up, darling."_

_He shook his head. He should have known she'd do this. She'd found out yesterday what Draco faced when he went back to the Manor, and she'd looked incredibly, shockingly sober. "The Dark Lord did this to you?" she'd asked, quietly, and Draco hadn't answered. _

"_Pansy, he was Crucio'd for hours this weekend."_

_She automatically flinched, but covered it with a grand smile. "It's nothing a little party can't fix."_

_Obviously she wasn't going to listen to reason. "Last week you tell me you like girls. Now you're flirting with some bloke?" he asked, quietly. Quite frankly, he was worried about her. Pansy was the type that couldn't handle failure, and she told him once that she considered being bent a weakness. _

_Her eyes hardened, and she lost the carefree edge the alcohol gave her. "I don't have to be bent if I don't want to be, love." _

_It was no use. There was no point talking to her when she was like this. He stormed over to where Draco was furiously snogging the Slytherin girl and took the bottle of firewhiskey out of his hands. Draco broke away, leaping up and trying to grab the bottle back. "What the…"_

"_You need to stop drinking," Blaise said. _

_Draco laughed disbelievingly. "That's funny, mate. Now give it to me."_

"_You've been doing this all year. It's getting ridiculous."_

"_Why do you care?" Draco slurred defensively. "Oh, I get it. You're mad that I didn't tell you about the party."_

_Blaise's jaw dropped. _

"_Sorry, mate, but I thought you would put a damper on things." He smirked, sitting back down on the couch and looping his arm around the Slytherin girl. _

"_You know what? Go fuck yourself, you self-centered asshole," Blaise spat. He was through with Draco's self-destructive behavior. He was done listening to him lash out. _

_Draco Malfoy was on his own from now on. _

* * *

I slowly drifted back into consciousness.

I refused to open my eyes. I wanted to get some reading for the location before I let her know I was awake. The floor was cold beneath me, and I was lying on my side. It felt like tile. I tested moving every muscle-my toes, my arms, and my hands through minute movements. No binding charms. I hummed low in my throat. No silencing charms.

Soft piano music wafted through the air. It sounded like Debussy, but then again, I wasn't clear on my Impressionist musicians.

I heard the clacking of shoes on the floor approaching me. And it was then that I finally opened my eyes.

She was dressed as she was when she'd _Stupefied_ me. She bent down to my level, but I refused to look at her.

"Hermione," she said softly. "You're awake."

And then an elegant smile spread across her face. She laughed lightly. "Goodness, I've been such a bad hostess. Please, come sit on the couch."

Still, I wouldn't acknowledge her. I wasn't going to play her little game.

After a moment of silence, she sighed. "Well, fine. I suppose I can't begrudge you if you decide to sit on the floor. Would you like some wine?"

This time, she didn't wait for an answer before she poured herself a glass and took a sip. Her immaculate red lipstick left a ring around the edge of the glass. She perched herself on the loveseat so she was facing me. "I thought we'd just have a little chat, you and I," she said nonchalantly. "You must be dying to ask me a few questions."

I still wouldn't answer. She shrugged. "Well, then, I suppose I'll just start at the beginning." She cleared her throat, crossing one leg over the other. "I've wanted to tell this story for so long, yet I knew no one would appreciate my incredibly brilliant plan like you would."

I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes.

"I got into Quidditch in my second year," she continued. "Gods, I was great. I flied circles around those other Chasers. Mother kept pushing me to try out for a professional team. I finally tried out for the Canons in sixth year. I was shocked when they told me that once I finished school, they would put me on the team." She smiled nostalgically. "I had it all mapped out. Once my N.E.W.T's were finished, I would breeze my way into the career I'd always dreamed of."

A pit formed in my stomach.

"And then I touched that little opal necklace." She paused, her breath catching in her throat. "My whole world exploded in pain. I'd never felt anything like it." She swirled the wine in her glass. "I don't remember much of it, but I do remember waking up in the hospital wing."

She pursed her lips. "Six months. Six months I would be recovering. And," she added, smiling bitterly, "permanent damage to my joints. The Healers politely informed me that I would never be able to play Quidditch again."

I swallowed.

She took a deep breath. "But, of course, I moved on. I figured out a new career path. It would make me loads of money, and I could be as ruthless as I wanted. Business." She held up her wine glass as if she was toasting her own success. "I did some jobs for a few consulting firms, and I decided to start up my own firm."

"That was when you went after Pansy," I murmured.

She looked at me, surprised I had answered. "I didn't go after her, my dear. Pansy was the one who flirted with me. And I knew her family was very wealthy, so I figured I would take advantage of her interest."

"She spent millions of galleons to start your firm."

"Yes!" she replied, excited, placing her wine glass down on the table in front of us. "Yes. I needed Malfoy to suffer, you see. I figured I would dispose of the people he cared about. His wife was, logically, my first choice."

"But you didn't have an affair with her. Ginny did."

"Ginny wanted Potter. I promised her I would take care of his fiancée so that he could fall into Ginny's arms for comfort." She rolled her eyes. "The bint was pathetic. But she seduced Astoria; she was a natural born actress, made her believe that she loved her. By the time Astoria had fallen for it and filed for divorce, I obliviated her to cover my tracks. I kept my promise, of course; I was so sure that Alex would be dead in a month at most."

She shook her head. "I didn't expect her to give you the antidote. Luckily, my own private collection of potions had a few drops of Polyjuice. I had a tracking charm on her, and I assumed the only reason she'd be alone at your flat, at night, was to confess. I tracked her down to St. Mungo's to see if I'd have to dispose of her as well." She sighed. "And of course, I did."

A shiver ran up my spine.

"Astoria was easier to kill," she said dismissively. "I just fed her an instantly fatal poison. She managed to apparate away, but I knew there was no chance of her surviving long."

"You wanted to frame Pansy for it because you already had her money."

"Well, what else would I need her around for?" she asked. "I thought it was rather brilliant, planting that necklace and those letters." She cocked her head to the side. "Pansy told me about the memory from Malfoy's pensieve. I created a replica of the locket based on her description."

That didn't make any sense. If she was the one that killed Lucius and cursed Narcissa, why would she have to create a replica of the locket? She must have had the necklace for it to be in the Narcissa's memory.

What the hell was going on?

She must have seen the confusion on my face. "It'll all become clear in a moment, Hermione. I wanted to wait for a moment before your boyfriend comes to explain. I thought I'd entertain you like a good hostess."

"You're a murderer," I said, quietly. "You started a vendetta against him over _Quidditch_."

And then my head snapped back as I felt her backhand me across the face. Her long nails scratched my cheek, and when I reached my hand up to gauge the damage, my fingers came away bright red with blood.

"It was my life!" she screeched, bending over me, grabbing my wrist in her hand and squeezing hard, pulling me to my feet. "It was my dream and he RUINED IT! HE RUINED ME!"

And then she seemed to come back to herself, her face going blank. She straightened up the tiniest bit, but she was still bent over me, considerably taller. Her hand was still gripping my arm.

That was when I started to act.

I elbowed her in the face and twisted my arm sharply, her wrist twisting with it. She screamed out in pain, letting go of me immediately.

And then I felt it: my nose felt like it had been snapped in half, and my wrist felt like it was breaking underneath my skin. I stumbled back, shocked.

She started laughing hysterically, blood dripping from her nose as she let her wrist hang down. "I forgot to mention that, love!" She giggled, the edges of her white dress staining quickly around her neckline. "Anything that happens to me happens to you. It's a nifty little charm. So I wouldn't recommend you try to escape by _force_."

My wrist was still incredibly sore. It felt like I'd broken it, which meant I'd broken hers. Our left hands were completely useless. I only glared at her.

And then I saw him: Draco, in the corner, pointing his wand at Katie's head. He'd clearly just apparated in.

"Draco!" Katie trilled. "I'm so glad you responded to my little note. Hermione here must be so happy to see you!"

"Let her go," he said, his voice tightly controlled. "Let her go, or I will kill you in your own home."

"Didn't you hear?" she asked, a mock-confused look on her face. "If you cast that curse, she dies along with me."

"Take off the curse or I will make _sure _I'll get around it."

"Sorry, Malfoy, but I've got a better idea." She placed her fingers in her mouth and pulled out a tiny white capsule. "Do you know what this is?" She didn't even wait for an answer. "It's something muggles call a _cyanide pill_. Incredibly lethal. If I swallow it, it'll kill the both of us before you can mutter an _Expelliarmus_. And trust me, I have plenty."

Draco lowered his wand, slowly. "What do you want?"

I saw an ecstatic gleam in her eyes. "I want you to tell her the truth. I want you to watch the hope in her eyes turn to hate."

He raised an eyebrow. "I am not playing your game."

"If you don't do it, I'll swallow that pill and you'll have to watch her die. In either outcomes, I win and you lose." She paused. "Now tell her."

He didn't answer.

She turned to me. "Guess what, Hermione? I cursed Narcissa. I wanted her to die. I killed Ginny and I killed Astoria. But I never _touched_ Lucius, not when I knew how much Draco hated him." She twisted her head towards him. "It was your precious little boyfriend who killed him." She grinned wildly. "Well? Admit it."

"Tell me that's not true, Draco," I said, quietly.

He didn't answer.

"TELL ME SHE'S LYING!" I screamed.

"I'm sorry for lying to you, Hermione," he replied flatly. "But I'm afraid that she's telling the truth."

And all I could hear was her twisted laughter, distantly, as my throat closed.


End file.
